.^j^jXrorp'Swf}g;js 


•B'/|4 


A 


-^«r 


THE    LIFE 


OF 


JESUS   THE    CHEIST 


HENRY   WARD  ^BEECHER 


"But  when  the  fulness  of  the  timo  was  come,  God  sent  forth  his  Son, 
made  of  a  woman,  made  under  the  law,  to  redeem  them  that  were  under 
the  law."^GAL.  iv.,  1,  5. 


VOIj.    II. 

LATER    SCENES 


COMPLETED      EDITION 


NEW   YORK 
BROMFIELD  AND  COMPANY 

LONDON  :      RICHABD   D.    DICKINSON 

1891 


[All  rights  reserved.] 


Copyright,  1891, 
BY   BKUilFIELD  AND  COMPANY. 


lAll  ri'jhis  reserved 


The  Maceknzie  Press: 

Valbuidue  &  Co., 

17-27  Vandewatkr  Stkket,  N.  Y. 


PEEFACE   TO  YOLUIVIE  II. 


^WENTY  years  ago  Henry  Ward  Beecher  began 
^  writing  ''  The  Life  of  Jesus,  the  Christ."  The 
work  was  commenced  when  the  author's  time  was 
more  than  fully  occupied  with  the  regular  pastoral 
duties  of  a  large  church,  the  organization  of  a  re- 
ligious newspaper,  the  "  Christian  Union,"  and  the 
many  minor  calls  upon  his  time  incident  to  his  public 
life.  Nevertheless,  amid  these  varied  duties,  he 
completed  the  first  volume,  which  was  pubHshed 
in  1871. 

A  considerable  portion  of  the  second  volume  was 
prepared,  when  his  work  was  brought  to  an  abrupt 
standstill  by  a  series  of  unforeseen  interruptions 
which  made  further  preparation  for  a  number  of 
years  impossible.  Several  times,  however,  during 
the  ten  years  between  1876  and  1886,  he  under- 
took the  completion  of  this  volume,  but  was  as  many 
times  interrupted  and  forced  to  lay  it  aside. 

Early  in  1886  he  decided  to  devote  the  coming 
summer  to  that  end.     Then  the  second  volume  was 


IV  PREFACE    TO    VOLUME  II. 

about  three  fourths  written,  and  it  seemed  reason- 
ably certain  that  the  year  would  see  it  finished. 
Unfortunately  for  the  book,  he  was  persuaded  to 
revisit  England  during  the  summer.  As  soon  as 
practicable  after  his  return,  he  again  set  to  work. 
Considerable  time  was  spent  in  recovering  the 
threads  of  thought,  scattered  by  so  many  and  such 
long  interruptions.  The  matter  in  hand  was  care- 
fully revised,  and  by  the  first  of  March,  1887,  he  had 
begun  to  push  ahead.  But  the  fatality  which  had 
so  persistently  deferred  its  completion,  outlived  its 
author;  for  when,  on  March  3,  1887,  Mr.  Beecher 
laid  down  his  pen  for  a  little  rest,  he  laid  down  with 
it  all  further  cares  and  troubles,  —  that  night  he 
was  stricken  with  his  final  illness. 

At  first  it  was  intended  to  publish  the  book  just 
as  it  had  been  left  by  Mr.  Beecher.  But  recalling 
that  at  the  different  times  when  he  had  attempted 
to  finish  this  volume,  he  had  often  preached  along 
the  line  of  the  topics  he  was  then  investigating, 
it  was  believed  that  a  compilation  might  be  made 
from  these  sermons,  which  would  in  a  manner  sup- 
plement the  work  left  by  him.  Inspired  by  that 
hope,  a  careful  examination  was  made  of  all  of  his 
printed  sermons  accessible  to  us,  and  the  steno- 
graphic notes  of  many  unpublished  ones;  and  from 
these  sources  was  obtained  the  material  presented 
in  the  supplement.  Down  to  the  close  of  Chapter 
XXV.,   the    book    is    exactly  as   written   and    left 


PREFACE   TO   VOLUME  II.  V 

by  Mr.  Beecher,  the  supplement  alone  being  new 
matter. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  supplement  the  com- 
pilers were  confronted  with  serious  difficulties,  neces- 
sarily inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  material  from 
which  it  was  compiled.  That  there  would  be,  in 
many  instances,  a  want  of  continuity  of  thought  and 
style,  as  well  as  serious  gaps  in  the  narrative,  was 
of  course  apparent  at  the  outset.  There  seemed 
to  be  but  two  ways  of  meeting  these  difficulties. 
One  was  to  rewrite  most  of  the  passages,  and  fill  the 
gaps  with  matter  of  our  own  composition,  which 
would  be  remedying  one  evil  by  creating  a  greater 
one,  giving  our  construction  of  Mr.  Beecher's  mean- 
ing and  beliefs,  and  probably  sacrificing  that  force 
and  beauty  of  expression  which  was  so  characteristic 
of  his  pulpit  utterances. 

The  alternative  course  was  to  retain  the  passages 
selected,  practically  intact ;  changing  only  a  word 
here  and  there,  to  adapt  them  to  their  new  sur- 
roundings, and  inserting  such  brief  sentences,  at  the 
points  where  the  passages  were  joined,  as  would  ease 
the  reader  from  too  severe  jolting  in  passing  from 
one  selection  to  another,  leaving  the  more  serious 
gaps  unfilled.     We  chose  the  latter  course. 

The  most  marked  omission  in  the  narrative  is  the 
Crucifixion.  We  cannot  find,  after  an  examination 
of  many  hundreds  of  sermons,  published  and  unpub- 
lished,   that    Mr.    Beecher   ever    preached    directly 


Vi  PREFACE   TO   VOLUME  II. 

on  that  subject.  On  the  contrary,  he  often  said 
that  it  was  impossible  :  the  subject  was  too  awful 
and   sublime. 

In  this  form  we  present  the  work  to  the  public, 
knowing  that  those  persons  to  whose  severe  literary 
taste  the  supplement  may  seem  inharmonious  may 
easily  omit  it ;  while  many  others,  we  hope,  may 
find  comfort  and  profit  in  reading  these  descrip- 
tions of  the  closing  scenes  of  Christ's  life,  and  his 
last  appearance  amgng  his  followers. 

SAMUEL   SCOVILLE. 
WILLIAM   C.   BEECHER. 

January,  1891. 


C  O  IS^  T  E  ^  T  S. 

Vol.  II. 


Chapter  Page 

XVIII.    Across  the  Lake I 

XIX.     The  Soul's  Physician li 

XX      Ministry  of  the  Disciplls 29 

XXI.     Under  the  Shadow 50 

XXII.     Light  Triumphant 71 

XXIII.  Farewell  to  Galilee 90 

XXIV.  Conscious  Divinity 107 

XXV.    The  Growth  of  Conflict 128 

XXVI.    Raising  Lazarus.  —  Wayside  Sermons 115 

XXVII.    The  Young  Ruler 166 

XXVIII.     Healing  the  Blind 174 

XXIX.     The  Approach  of  the  Passover 184 

XXX.     The  Last  Parables.  —  Mary's  Offering    ....  205 

XXXI.     Christ's  Betrayal,  Trial,  and  Crucifixion     .     .     .  233 

XXXII.    The  Resurrection 258 

Appendix     I.  —  References  to  Gospels  Consolidated     .     .     .  289 

Appendix  II. —  Descriptions  op  Engravings 297 

Analytical  Index 365 


INDEX    TO    ILLUSTRATIONS. 
Vol.  II. 


Christ  before  Pilate Frontispiecs 

(Litliograplied  by  Sterling  &  Wylie  from  Photographs  of  the  celebrated 
picture  by  Muukacsy.) 

View  between  Safed  and  Tel  Julias Opposite  par/e  -^^ 

See  Appendix,  p.  331. 

Peter's  Faith  Tested "^'^ 

The  Ladder  of  Tyre 55 

See  Appendix,  p.  333. 

Mt.  Hermon  from  the  Huleh 71 

See  Appendix,  p.  335. 

Coins  Mentioned  in  the  Gospels 8-^ 

See  Appendix,  pp.  SBiJ-SBi. 

The  Woman  Taken  in  Adultery 109 

Bethany  from  the  Jerus.alem  Ro.ad l-^O 

See  Appendix,  p.  343. 

Site  of  Jericho ^^' 

See  Appendix,  p.  347. 

Jerusalem  from  the  Bethany  Road      ....     =     ..••     18^ 

See  Appendix,  p.  348. 

Jerusalem  from  the  Northeast 205 

See  Appendix,  p.  35 1. 

Gethsemane 30t> 

See  Appendix,  p.  350, 


X  INDEX   TO  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Stkket  Sckne  in  Jkkusalem 252 

See  Appendix,  p.  S27. 

Olivet,  near  Bethany 258 

Sec  Appendix,  p.  '6bi. 


MAP. 

Outline  Map  of  Parts  of  Palestine 299 

Showiug  Ruads,  Rivers,  Towus,  Elevations  above  Sea-levei,  etc. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ACEOSS   THE  LAKE. 

As  one  rides  at  leisure  along  a  summer  road  there 
are  many  points  of  view,  many  nooks  of  rare  loveli- 
ness, many  flowers  or  curiously  branched  trees,  that 
might  be  passed  without  notice,  but  which,  when  once 
pointed  out,  cannot  be  again  overlooked.  We  marvel 
that  things  so  modest  should  at  length  become  so 
marked. 

In  following  the  narratives  of  the  Evangelists,  es- 
pecially the  first  three,  we  are  likely  to  conceive  of 
Jesus  as  one  always  surrounded  with  crowds,  and  la- 
boring in  their  behalf  with  exceeding  zeal,  —  almost 
living  among  the  common  people.  But  a  closer  study 
reveals  the  fact  that  Jesus  at  times  maintained  a  re- 
markable separateness.  It  is  true  that  he  was  never 
absorbed  and  lost  in  the  multitude,  but  stood  out  in 
distinct  individuaHty  while  he  was  teaching,  or  trav- 
ersing the  land  in  circuits  of  mercy.  Quite  apart  from 
this,  however,  was  his  love  of  retirement,  and  even 
of  seclusion.  Not  only  do  we  find  him  disentangling 
himself  from  the  throng  of  curious  hearers,  and  o-oing: 
apart  with  his  disciples,  but  even  from  them  he 
seemed  often  to  draw  away  into  the  refreshment  of 
absolute  solitude.  As  the  coolness  of  night  is  poured 
upon  flowers  overspent  with  the  glow  and  heat  of  the 
day,  so  in  solitude   the  soul  of  Jesus  opened   to   the 


2  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

crrent  heavens  above  him,  and  was  comforted  and 
cahned  into  peace.  For  his  nature  was  not  like  a 
cloud,  that  drops  down  its  showers  upon  the  world  and 
sails  on,  uplifted  above  the  touch  of  things  it  rains 
upon.  He  dwelt  among  us,  he  bore  our  griefs,  he 
carried  our  sorrows.  His  heart  was  quick  and  sen- 
sitive, and  all  the  wants  of  men,  their  conflicts  and 
passions,  wrought  upon  him.  In  solitude  his  soul  re- 
turned to  its  rest ;  so  that,  even  when  the  event  is 
not  recorded  in  the  fragmentary  history  in  the  Gos- 
pels, we  may  suppose,  without  presumption,  that  every 
period  of  intense  fervor  was  followed  by  some  tranquil 
seclusion,  —  by  a  withdrawing  to  some  mountain  re- 
treat, or  by  a  resort  to  the  lovely  Sea  of  Galilee. 

After  closing  his  discourse  from  the  boat,  Jesus  did 
not  land,  and  go  back  with  the  throng  to  the  city  of 
Capernaum.  He  seemed  rather  to  wish  to  withdraw 
from  among  men  ;  and  so  he  "  gave  commandment  to 
depart  to  the  other  side."  But  he  could  not  at  once 
disengage  himself.  There  were  many  that  lingered 
about  him,  drawn  to  his  person  by  some  indefinable 
attraction,  though  having  no  deep  moral  sympathy 
with  him;  and  when  they  heard  Jesus  say  to  his 
disciples,  "  Let  us  go  over  unto  the  other  side  of  the 
lake,"  they  pressed  forward  to  go  with  him. 

Chief  among  them  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  aris- 
tocracy of  the  Jews,  —  "  a  Scribe."  With  a  seeming 
whole-heartedness  he  said,  "  Master,  I  will  follow  thee 
whithersoever  thou  goest."  The  surface  motive  was 
doubtless  sincere,  but  the  centre  of  influence  in  his 
spirit  had  not  been  touched.  He  beheld  him  who 
was  to  restore  Isnicl,  rather  than  him  who  w\as  to  re- 
create the  soul.     He  saw  a  disguised  king,  not  of  that 


ACROSS  THE  LAKE.  3 

"  kingdom  of  heaven  within  you,"  but  of  that  kingdom 
which  "  Cometh  with  observation."  No  doubt  he  felt  a 
genuine  drawing  toward  Jesus,  as  many  a  suitor  feels 
a  mild  affection  for  an  heiress,  looking  upon  her  per- 
son as  it  stands  in  relief  upon  the  background  of  her 
estate.  He  was  just  enough  penetrated  with  the  ad- 
mirableness  of  the  Lord's  teachings  to  feel  sure  that 
this  was  the  hidden  King,  and  that  the  kingdom  could 
not  be  far  off 

The  reply  of  Jesus  pierced  to  the  very  centre  of 
these  concealed  ambitions.  It  was  evening  ;  the 
crowd  were  moving  away  homeward.  With  the  deep- 
ening twilight,  the  song-birds  were  hushing  their  last 
notes ;  against  the  sky  the  sea-birds  might  be  seen 
flying  toward  their  night  resorts ;  and  in  the  recesses 
of  the  hills  that  rose  up  from  the  western  side  of  the 
sea,  foxes,  alert  with  hunger,  were  peering  out  from 
their  holes.  From  these  images  Jesus  framed  his 
reply :  The  foxes  have  holes,  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests, 
but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  This 
answer  revealed  the  latent  worldliness  of  the  Scribe. 
He  Avas  not  one  who  could  joyfully  take  poverty,  self- 
denial,  persecution,  and  even  death,  for  righteousness' 
sake.  His  expectations  were  a  delusion.  After  the 
explicit  words   of  Jesus,  he  did  not  press  his  offer. 

These  picture-words  of  Jesus  to  the  Scribe  reveal  a 
sort  of  homesickness  in  the  Master's  spirit.  While  he 
carried  others'  griefs  and  bore  their  sorrows,  he  was 
himself  lonely.  His  disciples  were  inconstant  and 
untrained.  His  own  kindred  did  not  believe  in  him. 
His  mother  thought  him  almost  beside  himself  The 
ruling  class  had  turned  against  him.  The  vast  crowds 
that  thronged  him  were  more  a  burden  and  a  danger 


4  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

tlian  a  help.  Not  far  in  the  distance  was  Calvary. 
How  deep  this  feeling  of  homelessness  was  is  seen  by 
the  effect  produced  upon  the  disciple  most  in  interior 
sympathy  with  him,  —  John.  It  was  this  disciple  who 
remembered  such  sayings  as  these :  "  He  was  in  the 
world,  and  the  world  was  made  by  him,  and  the  world 
knew  him  not.  He  came  unto  his  own,  and  his  own 
received  him  not."  "For  lam  not  alone,  but  I  and  the 
Father  that  sent  me."  "  The  Father  hath  not  left  me 
alone."  Still  plainer  are  the  records  of  this  experi- 
ence as  we  approach  the  great  period  of  his  passion  : 
"  The  hour  cometh,  yea,  is  now  come,  that  ye  shall 
be  scattered  every  man  to  his  oim,  and  shall  leave  me 
almie  ;  and  yet  I  am  not  alone,  because  the  Father  is 
with  me."     (John  xvi.  32.) 

As  the  evening  fell  upon  the  tranquil  sea,  and  Jesus 
had  dismissed  the  lingering  applicants,  the  disciples, 
without  waiting  to  make  preparation,  "  took  him  even 
as  he  was  in  the  ship,"  and  pushed  forth  toward  the 
southeast  part  of  the  lake.  Wearied  with  the  day's 
work,  soothed  by  the  cool  night  air,  lulled  by  the 
gentle  creak  of  the  sail  and  by  the  liquid  plash  of 
the  oars,  Jesus  fell  asleep  upon  a  boat-cushion.^ 

'  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  ' '  ships  "  or  "  boats ' '  employed  upon 
the  lake  in  our  Lord's  time  were  not  unlike  those  still  in  use  among  the 
Arabs.  Macgregor  describes  the  largest  as  about  thirty  feet  long,  seven 
feet  broad,  with  good  lines,  a  flat  floor,  open  except  at  the  sharp  and  rising 
ends,  which  were  decked  over  and  covered  with  boat-cushions.  In  Orien- 
tal lands  changes  are  the  exception,  and  sameness  from  age  to  age  the 
rule.  There  is  no  reason  lo  believe  that  a  single  change  has  been  made  in 
boat-building  among  the  Bedouins  and  Arabs  of  the  lake  and  river  regions 
for  two  thousand  years.  Agriculture  remains  the  same  ;  social  life,  man- 
ners, and  customs  are  the  same  ;  the  rude  architecture  of  jjcasant  life  is 
still  what  it  was  four  thousand  years  ago  ;  and  it  is  diflicult  to  conceive  that 
boat-l)nilding  should  have  received  an  impulse  that  should  make  a  modern 
Arab's  craft  an  unfaithful  copy  of  those  emjjloyed  by    fishermen   of   the 


ACROSS  THE  LAKE.  5 

Hovering  round  the  ship  were  other  little  boats, 
crowded  with  people  Avhose  excited  imaginations  de- 
termined them  to  hold  fast  to  this  wonderful  per- 
sonage, and  not  to  be  absent  when  he  should  throw 
off  his  disguise,  revealing  himself  in  full  power,  and 
set  up  the  new  kingdom.  Their  enthusiasm  was  to 
receive  a  rude  shock.  Without  a  cloud  over  the  sky, 
or  any  warning,  a  rushing  noise  hissed  through  the  air, 
and  a  storm  of  wind  fell  down  upon  them  as  if  straight 
out  from  the  heavens  above  their  heads.  So  sudden 
was  it,  that  at  first  there  was  no  time  for  waves  to  rise. 
The  furious  wind  caught  up  the  water,  and  whirled  it 
in  wreaths  and  knots  through  the  air  with  blinding 
violence.  After  a  little  the  waves  began  to  roll.  All 
was  confusion.  The  seas  dashed  in,  roll  after  roll, 
filling  the  open  boat  and  threatening  to  founder  it. 
Jesus  slept  on,  — just  as,  a  thousand  times  since,  in 
deep  darkness  and  upon  wildly  troubled  affairs,  amid 
the  outcry  of  alarmed  men,  he  has  seemed  to  slumber. 
To  him  there  was  no  danger  from  the  waves  or  the 
wind;  the  storm  that  should  override  him  was  to 
gather  in  Jerusalem,  not  upon  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  His 
disciples  cried  to  him,  "  Carest  thou  not  that  we  per- 
ish?-" They  came  to  him  and  roused  him,  "Master, 
master,  we  perish!"  He  arose,  and  at  a  word  the  wind 
passed  by,  the  sea  subsided,  and  the  sky  was  clear. 
"There  was  a  great  calm. "^ 

Lake  of  Galilee  during  our  Lord's  life.  They  were  propelled  by  sails, 
probably  a  rude  lateen  sail,  and  by  oars  when  the  wind  failed  or  was 
adverse.  In  Part  I.  Chap.  XVII.  it  is  said  that  there  are  now  no  boats 
upon  the  Lake  of  Galilee.  But-  Macgregor  (Rob  Roy  on  the  Jordan, 
p.  357)  says,  "From  inspection,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  in  1869 
there  are  three  fishing-boats   and  two  at  the  ferry,  or  five  in  all." 

^  "My  experience  in  this  region  enables  me  to  sympathize  with  the  dis- 
ciples in  their  long  night's  contest  with  the  wind.     I  spent  a  night  in  the 


6  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

The  narrative  of  this  scene  is  intensely  simple.  It  is 
made  dramatic  by  its  intrinsic  elements.  The  wind 
and  waves  without,  the  storm  of  passionate  fear  within, 
the  simplicity  with  which  Jesus  confronts  the  scene, 
his  commands  laid  upon  nature  and  his  rebuke  of  the 
pusillanimity  of  his  disciples,  the  calming  of  the  ele- 
ments, and  the  childish  w^onder  of  the  crew,  form  a 
picture  striking  in  itself,  but  more  remarkable  as  the 
foreground  to  a  grander  scene  which  Jesus  was  now 
approaching.  For  the  morning  light,  breaking  along 
the  eastern  line  of  the  lake,  revealed  to  them  the  little 
town  of  Gergesa,  built  on  the  edge  of  the  lake  upon  a 
small  plain  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river  Semakh. 

Wady  Shukaiyif,  some  three  miles  up  it,  to  the  left  of  us.  The  sun  had 
scarcely  set  when  the  wind  began  to  rush  down  toward  the  lake,  and  it  con- 
tinued all  night  long  with  constantly  increasing  violence,  so  that  when  we 
reached  the  shore  next  morning  the  face  of  the  lake  was  like  a  huge  boil- 
ing caldron.  The  wind  howled  down  every  wady,  from  the  northeast  to 
east,  with  such  fury  that  no  efforts  of  rowers  could  have  brought  a  boat  to 
shore  at  any  point  along  that  coast.  In  a  wind  like  that,  the  disciples  must 
have  been  driven  quite  across  to  Gennesaret,  as  we  know  they  were.  To 
understand  the  causes  of  these  sudden  and  violent  tempests,  we  must  re- 
member that  the  lake  lies  low,  —  six  hundred  feet  lower  than  the  ocean ; 
that  the  vast  and  naked  plateaus  of  the  Jaulan  rise  to  a  great  height, 
spreading  backward  to  the  wilds  of  the  Ham'an,  and  upward  to  snowy  Her- 
mon  ;  that  the  watercourses  have  cut  out  profound  ravines  and  wild  gorges, 
converging  to  the  head  of  this  lake,  and  that  these  act  like  gigantic /wnne/i' 
to  draw  down  the  cold  winds  from  the  mountains.  On  the  occasion  referred 
to,  we  subscfjuently  pitched  our  tents  at  the  shore,  and  remained  for  three 
days  and  nights  exposed  to  this  tremendous  wind.  We  had  to  double  j)in 
all  the  tent-ropes,  and  frequently  were  obliged  to  hang  with  uur  whole 
weight  upon  them  to  keep  the  quivering  tabernacle  from  being  cai-ried  up 
bodily  into  the  air."  —  Thomson's  The  Lmid  and  the  Book,  Vol.  II.  pp. 
32,  33. 

"Just  as  the  Rob  Roy  passed  below  Wady  Fik,  a  strange,  distant  hiss- 
ing sounded  ahead,  where  we  could  see  that  a  violent  storm  was  raging. 
Instantly  all  hands  were  on  the  alert  to  meet  it.  The  waves  had  not  time 
to  ri.se.  The  gusts  had  come  down  upon  calm  water,  and  they  whisked  up 
long  wreaths  of  it   into  the  skv.      The  sen-birds  sailed  with   the   roaring 


ACROSS   THE  LAKE.  7 

The  ruins  are  still  visible,  and  a  little  to  the  south  of  it 
the  slopes  of  the  hills  down  which  the  herd  of  swine 
ran  answer  to  the  description  of  the  Evangelists,  and 
identify  the  spot  beyond  reasonable  doubt.  Caves  and 
remains  of  tombs  were  found  by  Wilson  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  Gergesa.  The  city  of  Gadara  prob- 
ably gave  its  name  to  the  region  in  which  Gergesa 
stands,  although  it  was  itself  several  miles  from  the 
shore  of  the  lake  toward  the  southeast. 

Lano-uao-e  cannot  be  found  to  give  a  more  vivid  and 
affecting  account  of  the  condition,  habits,  and  wretched- 
ness of  one  made  maniacal  by  demonic  possession  than 
that  of  the  Evangelists  ;  —  an  outcast,  dwelling  in  soh- 

blast,  wliich  rushed  on  witli  foam  and  fury,  but  it  found  the  Rob  Roy  all 
ataunto.  This  torrent  of  heavy  cold  air  was  pom-ing  over  the  mountain 
crests  into  the  deep  caldron  of  the  lake  below,  a  headlong  flood  of  wind, 
like  a  waterfall  into  the  hollow  ;  just  as  is  said  in  Luke  (viii.  23),  '  There 
came  dow7i  a  storm  of  wind  upon  the  lake. ' 

' '  The  peculiar  effects  of  squalls  among  mountains  are  known  to  all  Avho 
have  boated  much  on  lakes  ;  but  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee  the  wind  has  a  sin- 
gular force  and  suddenness  ;  and  this  is,  no  doubt,  because  the  sea  is  so  deep 
in  the  world  that  the  sun  rarefies  the  au"  in  it  enormously,  and  the  wind, 
speeding  swift  above  a  long  and  level  plateau,  gathers  much  force  as  it 
sweeps  through  flat  deserts,  until  suddenly  it  meets  this  huge  gap  in  the 
way,  and  it  tumbles  down  here  irresistibly. 

"  With  my  best  efforts  I  could  scarcely  stem  the  force  of  this  head  wind, 
though  my  crew  was  in  excellent  training  and  my  canoe  in  her  lightest  trim. 
But  every  moment  lost  now  in  getting  to  the  cliffs  for  shelter  would  make 
the  work  afterwards  ten  times  harder,  when  the  sea  had  time  to  rise.  By 
pressing  onward  then  with  every  nerve,  and  with  more  exertion  than  at  any 
time  during  the  cruise,  we  gained  at  last  the  windward  shore,  and  here  we 
could  look  with  safe  amazement  at  the  scud  of  the  gale,  careering  across 
the  lake  and  twisting  the  foam  in  the  air  as  if  tied  in  knots  of  spray,  which 
sparkled  in  the  sun  like  ten  thousand  diamonds,  while  the  sea-birds  still 
flew  helplessly  down  the  wind 

"  Swift  as  the  tempest  had  come  down,  it  vanished  away  as  swiftly;  and 
when  we  turned  our  bow  to  sea  again,  there  was  only  a  fine  fresh  breeze 
and  common  waves  to  meet."  —  The  Rob  Rotj  on  the  Jordan,  pp.  421, 
422. 


8  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

tary  places,  such  as  rock-cut  sepulchres  and  caves ; 
fierce  toward  others  and  violent  toward  himself;  full 
of  wild  cries,  night  and  day ;  hursting  all  bands,  and 
breakino;  the  manacles  w^ith  which  friends  souo-ht  to 
restrain  him  ;  without  clothing  or  proper  food ;  wan- 
dering up  and  down  in  solitary  places  among  the  dark 
gorges  or  on  the  mountain-side,  feared  by  all,  and 
supremely  wTetched  in  himself.  Matthew  mentions 
two.  But  it  is  plain  that  the  second  was  but  as  it 
■were  a  shadow  of  the  first,  whose  terrible  energy  made 
him  the  conspicuous  figure  in  the  scene.  From  his 
mountain  haunt,  he  "  saw  Jesus  afar  off."  Impelled 
by  irresistible  impulse,  he  sped  along  the  hills,  and, 
rushing  w^ildly,  plunged  headlong  upon  the  ground,  as 
in  a  kind  of  brutal  obeisance,  ^^elling  a  terrified  sub- 
mission. "  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  Jesus,  thou 
Son  of  the  most  high  God  ?  "  Jesus  resjDonded,  Come 
Old  of  the  man,  ilwii  unclean  sjnyit ! 

Then  with  a  wail,  in  which  supplication  and  defiance 
were  weirdly  mingled,  the  wretch  cries,  "  Art  thou 
come  hither  to  torment  us  before  the  time  ?  I  adjure 
thee  by  God  that  thou  torment  me  not." 

Strangely  enough,  the  demons  beseech  Jesus  to  per- 
mit them  to  take  possession  of  the  herd  of  swine  which 
were  feeding  on  the  mountain-slope  not  far  off,  —  a 
fit  choice  for  such  spirits.  The  whole  herd  rushed 
headlong  into  the  foaming  sea  and  were  drowned. 

The  keepers  of  the  swine  betook  themselves  to  the 
town  of  Gergesa,  and  without  doubt  gave  a  terrifying 
account  of  what  had  happened.  The  inhahitants  of 
this  region  were  probably  of  mixed  race.  There  may 
have  been  Jews  among  them ;  but  there  is  no  evi- 
dence that  the  swine  were  the  property  of  Jews,  who 


ACROSS  THE  LAKE.  9 

were  not  allowed  to  deal  in  unclean  animals.  The 
news  brought  out  the  "whole  city"  "to  meet  Jesus," 
and  "  to  see  what  it  was  that  was  done."  They  thronged 
to  the  spot  where  the  beneficent  exorcism  had  taken 
place.  A  sight  met  their  eyes  that  might  touch  with 
sympathy  a  heart  of  stone.  The  wild  man  of  the 
tombs,  whose  hideous  voice  had  so  often  been  heard 
in  the  night  screaming  or  cursing,  whose  naked  body 
had  been  disfigured  with  ghastly  wounds  and  filth,  was 
now  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  clothed,  and  in  his 
right  mind.  The  weary  feet,  that  day  and  night  had 
not  rested,  were  still.  The  eyes  that  had  long  blazed 
with  animal  fury  now  looked  forth  with  a  soft  calm- 
ness which  reason  and  gratitude  conspired  to  create. 
Words  of  love  and  faith  fell  from  his  lips.  The  tombs 
were  silent,  the  mountain  was  still,  the  sea  resumed  its 
soft  ripple. 

In  another  mood  the  crowd  would  have  chanted 
hosannas,  but  a  sudden  panic  had  filled  these  super- 
stitious creatures  with  terror.  The  destruction  of  prop- 
erty was  the  first  news  of  this  strange  personage  they 
had  received  from  the  vulgar  swineherds.  And  when 
the  citizens  thronged  about  Jesus,  and  saw  the  wild 
man  of  the  mountains  restored  to  reason,  it  added  to 
their  terror.  The  presence  of  a  being  of  such  pow- 
er—  a  master  of  the  black  arts,  perhaps,  before  whom 
fierce  demons  quailed,  at  whose  permission  two  thou- 
sand swine  had  been  swept  into  the  sea  and  perished  in 
a  hideous  rout  —  appalled  them  with  a  vague  sense  of 
danger.  Demons  in  the  air  and  swine  in  the  sea,  who 
could  tell  what  next  might  come  forth  from  the  moun- 
tain, the  heavens,  or  the  waters  ?  Out  of  blind  terror 
they  besought  this  too-powerful  visitor  to  depart  out 


10  TUIC  LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

of  their  neighborhood.  It  is  probable  that  their  con- 
dition would  have  made  any  expostulation  or  instruc- 
tion useless.  But  it  was  not  even  attempted  ;  only  in 
the  open  furrow  would  Jesus  sow  seed.  He  who  com- 
manded the  storm  to  be  still  laid  no  violence  upon  the 
hearts  of  men. 

One  exquisite  picture  stands  out  upon  this  dark 
background.  As  Jesus  ascended  the  boat  to  return, 
the  new-made  man  "  besought  him  that  he  might  be 
with  him."  The  poor,  ignorant  people  were  for  thrust- 
ing the  healer  of  men  out  from  their  midst.  But  this 
poor  soul  that  had  come  back  from  a  hideous  captivity 
to  evil  spirits  could  not  bear  to  be  separated  from  his 
deliverer.  Doubtless  there  was  upon  him  a  vague 
dread  of  the  recurrence  of  the  evil  influence ;  but  yet 
more  was  it  gratitude,  and  a  response  to  that  strong 
personal  attraction  which  Jesus  exercised  in  so  signal 
a  manner. 

There  is  perhaps  in  no  other  place  in  the  Evangelists 
a  scene  which  so  severely  taxes  the  belief  of  one  who 
looks  upon  past  scenes  Avitli  the  eyes  of  that  vigorous 
spiritual  incredulity  which  modern  scientific  training 
is  apt  to  beget.  Were  the  history  of  Jesus  a  grand 
drama,  built  up,  like  Shakespeare's  Hamlet,  out  of  the 
imagination,  then  men  would  admire  the  harmony  and 
equipoise  wdiich  the  presence  and  activity  of  evil 
spirits  give  to  the  whole  story.  But  when  demonic 
influence  and  miraculous  agencies  are  presented  as 
simple  historic  occurrences,  many  who  woidd  delight 
in  them  as  ornaments  reject  them  as  sober  facts.  We 
must  interpret  the  history  in  the  spirit  of  its  age,  in 
the  spirit  of  the  Evangelists,  and,  above  all,  in  the 
spirit  of  its  Hero.     Jesus  represented  himself  as  hav- 


ACROSS   THE  LAKE.  H 

ing  come  into  this  world  from  the  spirit-land  for  the 
deliverance  of  men  from  the  power  of  the  flesh.  He 
believed  that  a  grander  history  was  going  on  in  the 
spiritual  universe  than  any  on  the  visible  earth,  and 
that  the  world  swung  alternately  into  the  light  or 
shadow  of  mighty  spheres  external  to  itself 

The  age  in  which  he  appeared  believed  in  the 
existence  both  of  good  and  evil  spirits  out  of  the 
body,  and  in  their  intrusion  upon  this  earth,  —  not 
only  that  they  had  power  to  tempt,  but  that  in 
many  cases,  and  at  particular  times,  they  had  power 
to  take  possession  of  the  bodies  and  minds  of  men, 
and  to  control  them.  The  similarity  of  the  symp- 
toms of  demonic  possession  to  those  resulting  from 
ordinary  natural  causes  in  many  forms  of  insanity 
now  perfectly  familiar  to  physicians,  has  been  by  some 
regarded  as  positive  proof  that  demonic  possession  was 
nothing  but  insanity,  and  that  the  attribution  of  a 
spirit-origin,  in  days  before  the  science  of  medicine 
had  been  much  developed,  was  the  result  of  igno- 
rance and  superstition. 

But  it  is  to  be  considered  that,  if  evil  spirits  should 
take  possession  of  the  mind  of  men,  the  brain  and 
whole  nervous  system,  by  means  of  which  intelligence 
discloses  itself,  would  be  thrown  into  an  abnormal 
state,  and  it  would  not  be  unreasonable  to  expect  that 
every  symptom  of  cerebral  disturbance  would  be  pres- 
ent. Demonic  possession  would  on  this  view  work 
external  results  like  those  produced  by  any  other 
great  derangement  in  the  supreme  centres  of  human 
intelligence,  and  all  the  symptoms  of  various  insan- 
ities might  reasonably  be  expected.  Palsies,  dumb 
and  moping  melancholia,  epilepsy,  simple  mania,  foul 


12  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    TTIE   CHRIST. 

ragings  of  evil  passions,  are  known  to  arise  from  a 
variety  of  causes,  physical  and  mental ;  and  why 
should  they  not  spring  also  from  the  agency  of  evil 
spirits,  in-seated  and  controlling?  Why  should  not 
the  exacerbations  of  intruding  demons  work  palsies, 
paralysis,  or  furious  mania,  as  really  and  naturally  as 
do  dissipations,  excessive  excitements,  or  other  in- 
flammations of  the  brain  ?  That  this  was  the  belief  of 
the  age  in  which  Jesus  lived  is  indisputable.  That 
Jesus  accepted  this  belief  is  beyond  reasonable  ques- 
tion. It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  he  might  have 
deemed  it  wise  to  conform  to  a  superstition  of  his 
age.  He  did  not  come  on  earth  to  conform  to  vul- 
gar prejudices  which  had  respect  to  the  spirit-world, 
and  involved  facts  and  princij)les  vitally  connected 
with  the  Divine  government  over  men.  He  was  "the 
true  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world."  But  this  belief  in  the  existence  and 
agency  of  evil  spirits,  hovering  about  this  sphere, 
acting  at  large  upon  the  human  race,  pervaded  his 
whole  teaching.  He  introduced  the  theme  time  and 
again,  of  himself,  in  his  most  private  instructions  to 
his  disciples,  and  in  the  most  secluded  and  solemn 
moments.  If  Jesus  did  not  believe  in  the  existence 
of  evil  spirits  and  their  agency  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
the  radiance  which  has  spread  over  his  name  must 
change  to  a  darker  hue.  Even  Renan  thinks  that 
he  believed,  but  that  it  was  the  visionary  belief  of 
a  noble  fanatic,  to  whom  at  length  phantoms  had 
become  realities. 

While  modern  thought,  on  the  one  side,  is  establish- 
ing a  rigorous  method  of  belief,  which  makes  the 
senses  not  ministers  but  masters  of  man's  higher  na- 


ACROSS  THE  LAKE.  13 

ture,  and  which  refuses  to  receive  any  truth  that  can- 
not reduce  itself  to  the  level  and  form  of  the  senses, 
there  is  on  the  other  side,  breaking  out  in  irregular 
but  irresistible  impulses,  a  faith  in  invisible  spirits,  and 
in  their  relations  to  time  and  men,  which  is  bringing 
back  multitudes  to  the  beliefs  and  moods  which  pre- 
vailed in  the  age  of  Jesus,  —  beliefs  which  have  never 
been  suppressed,  or  for  any  length  of  time  much  weak- 
ened, though  in  the  progress  of  knowledge  they  have 
been  regulated  and  their  limits  somewhat  defined  by 
philosophic  reason.  Modern  thought  is  in  no  condition 
to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  mysterious  themes  of  the 
spirit-world.  Until  much  more  light  and  certainty 
have  been  cast  upon  the  hitherto  inscrutable  interiors 
of  the  demonic  or  angelic  spheres,  we  need  not  refuse 
to  accept  the  narratives  of  the  conflict  of  Jesus  with 
demonic  spirits  as  a  true  and  proper  record  of  the  his- 
tory of  his  times. 

The  philosophic  and  ethical  questions  which  will 
naturally  come  up  around  many  points  of  the  narrative 
are  not  exclusively  pertinent  to  this  scene,  but  belong 
to  all  contacts  of  this  visible  world  with  the  invisible, 
and  to  all  relations  between  the  finite  and  the  infinite. 
Jesus  clearly  and  repeatedly  assumed  that  the  human 
mind  had  in  it  an  undeveloped  germ,  which,  when 
quickened,  would  put  it  into  new  relations,  not  only 
with  the  spirit-world,  but  also  with  the  material  globe. 
Those  principles  of  evidence  which  exclude  a  belief  in 
good  and  evil  spirits,  and  in  the  historic  reality  of  the 
statements  concerning  them,  will  not  stop  at  that,  but 
will  deny  that  the  soul  of  man  is  immaterial,  that 
there  is  evidence  of  existence  after  death,  that  there  is 
a  personal  God,  or  an  intelligent  moral  government. 


14  THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    SOUL'S    PHYSICIAN. 

The  night  goetli  and  the  morning  cometh.  While 
crowds  on  one  side  of  the  lake  were  praying  Jesus  to 
depart  out  of  their  coasts,  on  the  other  side  great 
multitudes  "  were  w^aiting  for  him  "  when  he  returned 
from  Gergesa  to  Capernaum. 

He  had  been  gone  but  two  nights  and  a  day.  The 
excitement,  now  become  general,  was  m  no  degree 
abated.  It  w^as  not  confined  to  any  one  class  or  part 
of  the  community.  No  wonder  that  Jesus  often  hid 
himself,  —  that  he  forbade  those  who  had  been  won- 
derfully healed  from  publishing  it  abroad.  There  was 
danger  that  society  would  be  deranged,  that  tumults 
would  ensue,  and  that  the  people  might  bring  down 
on  themselves  the  arm  of  a  cruel  government,  which 
had  often  drenched  the  land  in  blood.  There  was  even 
more  danger  that  the  excitement  of  curiosity  would 
supersede  moral  sensibility.  The  best  men  and  the 
worst,  reputable  matrons  and  women  "  that  were  sin- 
ners," Pharisees  and  the  common  people,  Roman  offi- 
cers and  Jewish  rulers,  law-abiding  citizens  and  ruffians 
of  every  degree,  swelled  the  motley  congregation 
which  choked  up  the  highways,  filled  villages  wherever 
he  came,  and  besieged  the  dwellings  in  which  he  took 
refuge.  Every  motive  which  animates  a  promiscuous 
crowd  inspired  this  movable  congregation.     Some  came 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  15 

from  curiosity,  some  from  superstitious  wonder,  some 
in  hopes  of  healing,  and  some  from  the  mere  love  of 
excitement.  There  was  nothing  in  the  teachings  of 
Jesus,  or  in  his  manner,  which  fed  a  vagrant  curiosity. 
His  words  pierced  to  the  inner  life,  and  awoke  in  all, 
but  especially  in  bad  men,  a  vague  desire  of  a  better 
manhood. 

The  dormant  moral  sense  of  the  rude  and  untaught 
is  subject,  under  certain  conditions,  to  paroxysms  sel- 
dom experienced  by  those  of  educated  spiritual  nature. 
When  the  kingdom  of  God  opens  upon  such  dark 
souls,  it  floods  them  with  strange  and  bewildering  in- 
fluences. There  is  a  wild  surge,  a  tumult  of  struggle 
between  good  and  evil,  a  repentance  full  of  horror,  a 
wild  inspiration  of  good  which  shoots  them  along  the 
path  of  reformation,  moved  by  impulses  as  sudden  and 
irresistible  as  those  which  impel  the  spring  of  northern 
zones.  The  development  of  a  spiritual  life  in  men 
given  up  to  evil  is  the  striking  fact  which  distin- 
guishes the  crowds  that  followed  Jesus  from  those 
which  thronged  the  steps  of  kings,  of  ostentatious  rich 
men,  and  of  impostors  and  mountebanks. 

Soon  after  his  return  from  Gergesa,  one  of  his  dis- 
ciples, Levi,  more  frequently  called  Matthew,  "  made  a 
great  feast  in  his  own  house  "  in  honor  of  Jesus.  This 
social  reunion  with  his  followers  in  the  home  of  one 
of  his  disciples,  who  not  only  owned  a  house  but  had 
the  means  required  to  give  "  a  great  feast,"  is  one  of 
those  interiors  which  give  the  most  perfect  insight  into 
the  spirit  and  social  relations  of  Jesus. 

Matthew  made  an  open  house.  Men  did  not  stand 
upon  invitation.  Of  the  crowd  which  thronged  Jesus, 
many  pressed  in  and  made  themselves  guests.     Luke 


^(\  Tiif:  i.irr.  of  jesus,  the  ciirist. 

savs,  "  Tliere  was  a  great  company  of  puhlicam  and  of 
otliers  that  sat  down  with  them."  This  might  be 
owiiif  as  much  to  the  friendly  rehitions  subsisting  be- 
tAvccn  Matthew  and  his  former  professional  friends  as 
to  the  attraction  of  Jesus ;  but  Mark,  alwaj^s  sharply 
defining  his  facts,  says,  "  Many  publicans  and  sinners 
sat  also  together  with  Jesus  and  his  disciples  at  meat." 
These  two  terms,  "  publican  "  and  "sinner,"  comprised 
those  who  sinned  against  the  public  sentiment  and 
those  who  sinned  against  the  laws  of  private  morality. 
The  publican  was  often  a  cruel  and  avaricious  extor- 
tioner. But  he  was  abhorred  by  patriotic  Jews  even 
n\ore  as  the  instrument  of  foreign  tyranny.  No 
people  ever  had  a  more  intense  patriotism  than  the 
Jews.  Under  oppression  it  became  religious  fanati- 
cism. We  may  easily  imagine  the  detestation  with 
which  a  Hebrew  would  visit  a  recreant  fellow-coun- 
tr^^man,  so  lost  to  all  patriotism  as  to  thrive  by 
collecting  an  unjust  and  humiliating  tax  from  his 
people  in  favor  of  their  oppressors.  No  wonder  that 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  stood  aghast  to  see  Jesus 
eating  with  a  great  company  of  publicans ! 

But  this  extraordinary  feast  had  other  guests.  Pul> 
licans  and  sinners !  The  term  "  sinner  "  was  applied  to 
l)()tli  sexes,  and  whether  used  toward  men  or  women 
it  signified  a  total  bankruptcy  of  virtue  and  good 
morals.  When  we  consider  the  lax  state  of  morals 
existing  in  the  mixed  population  of  Galilean  cities  in 
that  disordered  time,  those  to  whom  the  epithet  sinners 
was  given  must  have  been  exceedingly  degraded. 

The  Pharisee  was  of  all  men  peculiarly  liable  to  be 
siiocked  at  this  a])])arent  indifference  of  Jesus  to  the 
moral  character  of  his  company.     We  can  imagine  a 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  17 

graybeard,  venerated  for  wisdom,  and  high  in  the 
school  of  the  synagogue,  saying  to  a  young  Pharisee, 
"  A  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps.  A  virtu- 
ous person  should  not  countenance  the  wicked  by  fa- 
miliarly associating  with  them.  Behold  this  Jesus, — 
a  rash  and  unsettled  fellow,  of  good  parts  if  he  had 
prudence,  but  wasting  his  influence  and  injuring  good 
morals  by  eating  and  drinking  with  the  very  worst 
peoj)le  in  the  land.  It  puts  all  the  virtuous  to  shame 
to  see  him  sitting  at  a  feast  with  the  vilest  of  the  vile. 
What  an  example  to  our  young  men  !  He  pretends 
to  be  more  holy  than  the  law.  He  talks  about  purity 
and  spirituality.  But  how  does  he  act  ?  He  is  a  lover 
of  feasts,  he  is  not  fond  of  the  company  of  the  best 
men  in  our  nation,  he  spends  his  time  with  publicans 
and  sinners.  Look  at  him  now.  Who  are  those 
about  him  ?  Publicans  !  Who  are  those  women  ? 
He  cannot  but  know  what  every  man  in  Capernaum 
knows.  And  what  could  he  do  more  to  encourage 
them  in  evil,  than  to  sit  among  them  in  this  disgrace- 
ful familiarity  ?  It  is  i^volting  !  He  is  a  glutton  and 
a  toper." 

To  eat  and  drink  with  one  is  a  compact  of  friend- 
ship among  the  Arabs  to  this  day.  Although  in  the 
great  cities  of  Galilee,  where  Greek  and  Roman  influ- 
ence had  weakened  the  orio-inal  Jewish  feelino;,  this  act 
might  not  have  been  as  significant  as  among  the  chil- 
dren of  the  desert,  yet  it  retained  a  peculiar  force, 
and  Jesus  could  hardly  have  struck  a  more  sensitive 
prejudice  than  by  allowing  bad  men  to  approach  him 
socially.  It  is  more  than  likely,  in  their  state  of  mind, 
that  it  appeared  to  the  Pharisees  an  act  of  positive 
immorality.      They  were   not  in   a  mood  to  consider 


],S  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

liow  strange  it  -was  that  these  creatures  were  not 
drawn  to  his  discourse  for  the  sake  of  the  feast,  but 
to  the  feast  for  the  sake  of  his  discourse. 

A  Pharisee,  the  world  over,  is  good  externally.  He 
conforms  to  law  and  custom.  He  has  little  conception 
of  heroism  of  the  heart.  If  self-conceit  is  his  most 
obvious  fault,  the  want  of  humane  sympathy  is  a  sin 
yet  more  deadly.  The  Pharisee  acted  as  if  his  cere- 
monial purity  gave  him  a  right  to  judge  and  con- 
demn men.  He  saw  only  the  evil  that  was  in  them. 
That  evil  excited  neither  pity  nor  heljDfulness,  but 
detestation.  It  was  enough  if  a  man  Avas  wicked. 
*'  Keep  away  from  him.  Do  not  contaminate  yourself 
Preach  to  the  moral  leper  from  afar,  if  need  be,  but 
do  not  let  him  come  near.  If  he  wishes  your  com- 
pany, let  him  reform."  And  yet  every  one  of  them,  as 
a  parent,  had  in  his  own  heart  a  hint  of  that  Divine 
economy  which  it  was  the  mission  of  Jesus  to  intro- 
duce among  men  ;  for  he  that  helps  a  child  out  of  his 
faults,  who  chastises  in  love,  who  seeks  above  all  ends, 
and  by  all  means,  gentle  or  severe,  the  recovery  of 
the  erring  one,  has  an  interpretation  in  his  own  heart 
of  the  Divine  government  and  of  the  sj)ecial  mission 
of  Jesus.  His  replies  on  many  occasions  were  full  of 
the  wisdom  of  love.  "  Wicked  men  are  condemned 
already,  and  do  not  need  that  I  should  condemn  them. 
They  need  pity  and  help.  They  are  not  worthless 
because  they  are  wicked."  They  need  some  one  to 
bear  their  burdens,  to  care  for  them,  to  help  them 
wish  to  be  good,  to  nourish  that  faint  desire,  to  inspire 
hope  of  success,  to  reassure  them  when  they  break 
their  resolutions,  to  lend  them  warmth  and  sympathy 
and  love,  before  they  are  good,  as  nurses  and  physi- 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  29 

cians  give  the  sick  cordials  and  nourishments  as  well  as 
medicines,  and  give  them  while  they  are  sick,  attending 
with  most  assiduity  those  who  are  the  sickest.  God 
not  only  forgives  the  repentant,  but  he  lends  his  heart 
to  men  as  a  help  to  repenting.  Kindness  toward  the 
wicked  is  the  seed  of  hope.  Fear,  blows,  suffering,  do 
not  reform  men,  unless  accompanied  by  hope,  svm- 
pathy,  encouragement.  Conscience  inspires  rectitude, 
and  the  spirit  of  conscience  must  be  felt  in  those  who 
deal  with  evil ;  but  rectitude,  like  faith,  must  work  by 
love,  or  it  becomes  harsh  and  op23ressive. 

The  application  of  personal  kindness  to  evil  men 
does  not  require  every  good  man  to  associate  on  terms 
of  intimacy  with  bad  men,  nor  to  give  the  freedom  of 
his   household   to    the  depraved,  nor  in   any  way  to 
enfeeble  the  popular  sense  of  the  exceeding  sinfulness 
of  vice  and  crime.     Self-protection  on  the  part  of  the 
young  and  of  inexperienced  men,  and  the  shielding 
of  the   school   of  the   household,  demand  the  utmost 
prudence  in  the  application  of  Christian  social  feeling 
as  a  moral  medicine.     It  is  a  striking  feature  in  the 
life  of  Jesus,  that,  while  his  adversaries,  for  party  pur- 
poses, charged  him  with  being  a  companion  of  rogues 
and  roues,  the  culpable  classes  themselves  never  mis- 
understood his  character  or  purposes.     There  was  a 
manifest  reverence   in   their  approach   to  him.      The 
humility  and  awe  of  the  repentant  Magdalen  was  a 
suflacient  answer  to  the  implication  that  he  fostered 
evil  by  conscienceless  familiarity. 

Jesus  perceived  in  some  of  these  people  the  germs 
of  a  better  life.  Attracted  to  him  at  first  perhaps  by 
curiosity  or  mere  love  of  excitement,  their  minds  found 
new  thoughts  springing  up.     Strange  yearnings  were 


20  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

moving  their  hearts.  A  word  of  kindness  now  might 
determine  their  destiny.  For  men  struggling  amid 
their  misdeeds  to  do  better  are  like  sailors  who, 
swimming  through  a  boisterous  sea,  are  striving  to 
reach  the  shore.  The  very  wave  which  carries  them 
far  11})  the  sands,  if  help  be  not  afforded,  will  return 
toward  the  deep  and  bear  them  out  with  it.  The  time 
for  succor  is  when  men  yearn  for  a  better  life.  He 
that  has  human  sympathy  has  insight  of  such  moods, 
and  catches  men  at  the  very  critical  point  of  destiny. 

The  Pharisees  believed  in  theory  as  really  as  Jesus 
did  that  it  was  better  to  save  men  than  to  destroy  them. 
There  could  be  no  stronger  enunciation  of  the  curative 
sympathy  of  Divine  government  than  was  found  in 
their  prophets.  "Have  I  any  pleasure  at  all  that  the 
wicked  should  die  ?  saith  the  Lord  God ;  and  not  that 
he  should  return  from  his  ways,  and  live  ?  .  .  .  .  For  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth,  saith 
the  Lord  God."  (Ezek.  xviii.  23,  32.)  The  Pharisees 
did  not  blame  Jesus  for  seeking  the  welfare  of  corrupt 
men.  But  that  was  to  be  done  by  warning,  by  in- 
struction, by  punishments.  Evil  men  had  by  crimes 
or  vices  forfeited  their  rights  among  virtuous  men,  and 
they  were  to  be  excluded  from  the  associations  of  good 
men,  both  for  the  safety  of  human  society  and  for 
their  punishment,  until  they  had  given  proof  of  sincere 
repentance. 

But  Jesus  taught  that  personal  sympathy  is  the 
best  cure  for  evil.  It  is  g-oodness  comino;  to  the  rescue 
of  evil  that  inspires  hope.  Jesus  knew  that  personal 
influence  is  far  more  powerful  than  mere  preaching. 
Instruction  and  exhortation  prepare  the  way;  but 
nothing  quickens  the  innermost  soul  like  the  living 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  21 

contact  of  another  soul.  The  goodness  of  Jesus,  his 
singular  elevation,  his  superior  wisdom,  the  nobleness 
of  his  personal  intercourse,  had  he  been  without  com- 
passion for  those  that  are  out  of  the  way,  might  have 
convicted  men  of  sin,  but  would  have  inspired  despair 
instead  of  hope  of  reformation.  Yet  when  his  good- 
ness had  pierced  through  the  evil  to  the  germs  of 
goodness,  warmed  and  nourished  them,  it  drew  forth  a 
hidden  strength  which  could  be  touched  only  by  love 
and  kindness.  It  did  not  say,  "  Ye  are  not  so  bad  as 
ye  think " ;  but,  "  Ye  may  become  better  than  ye 
know."  Often  it  is  the  despair  of  being  virtuous  that 
prevents  reformation.  If  men  need  compassion  and 
help  in  bodily  sickness,  how  much  more  in  inward 
moral  distempers.  There  is  no  danger  of  palliating 
guilt  by  striving  tenderly  to  heal  it.  Nurses  and  phy- 
sicians never  come  to  love  disease. 

When  Jesus  suffered  evil  men  and  women  to  come 
near  to  his  person,  he  disarmed  fear.  When  he  sat 
down  with  them,  he  recognized  a  relationship  between 
them  and  him.  To  put  himself  on  their  level  was  the 
first  step  toward  raising  them  to  his  level.  Not  even 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  had  in  it  such  power  as  the 
simple  fact  that  Jesus  "  sat  at  meat  with  publicans  and 
sinners." 

What  is  the  Atonement  but  the  application  of  the 
Divine  nature  to  the  soul  of  man  for  its  enlightenment, 
regeneration,  and  sanctification  ?  In  this  simple  scene 
we  have  in  practical  form  the  whole  gospel.  It  is  love 
satisfying  justice  by  healing  sin. 

Jesus  was  intensely  natural.  There  was  no  assump- 
tion of  superiority  when  among  the  poor,  nor  of  state 
when  among  the  rich.     If  he  fell  in  with  joy,  he  re- 


22  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHJUST. 

joioed  ;  if  lie  met  trouble,  he  sorrowed.  He  wor- 
shipped as  his  people  did,  criticising  nothing  but 
formality  or  insincerity.  In  no  instance  did  he  leave 
the  impression  that  religion  requires  the  sacrifice  of 
innocent  pleasures,  or  that  its  moods  arc  sombre  or  sol- 
itary. He  offended  the  religious  feeling  of  the  schools, 
that  substituted  external  routine  for  reverence  and 
kindness.  No  doubt  the  venerable  teachers  pointed 
out  to  their  3'oung  pupils  the  worldly  spirit  of  Jesus. 
"  While  we  pray,  he  is  in  full  glow  of  genial  conver- 
sation ;  while  we  fast  oft,  he  is  sitting  at  great  feasts, 
his  boon  companions  the  dregs  of  society !  "  In  seek- 
ing to  avoid  self-indulgence,  men  run  into  the  self- 
conceit  of  asceticism  ;  they  do  not  know  the  superior 
art  of  "  using  the  world  as  not  abusing  "  it. 

The  3^oung  disciples  of  the  rigid  Pharisees  and  some 
of  John's  disciples  determined  to  question  Jesus,  and 
to  hear  what  explanation  he  would  give.  They  asked 
him,  "Why  do  the  disciples  of  John  fast  often,  and 
make  prayers,  and  likewise  the  disciples  of  the  Phari- 
sees ;  but  thine  fast  not,  but  eat  and  drink  ?  " 

Can  ye  make  the  children  of  the  hridechamher  fast  and 
mown  while  the  bridegroom  is  ivith  them?  The  joy  that 
befits  a  wedding  would  be  unnatural  at  a  funeral. 
Why  sliould  my  discip)les  fast  just  for  the  sake  of  fast- 
ing ?  In  its  own  time,  rejoicing  is  as  religious  as  in  its 
time  sorrow  is.  If  fiisting  be  observed,  it  should  be  for 
some  special  reason,  and  not  as  a  regular  point  in  a 
mechanical  round  of  observances.  It  is  a  time  of  joy 
with  my  disciples.  I  am  with  them.  These  are  to 
them  as  wedding-days.  Joy  is  natural,  and  sorrow 
would  be  unfit.  Thus,  when  brought  to  the  test, 
Christ  sharply  separated  himself  from  the  ascetics. 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  23 

There  can  be  no  stronger  testimony  to  the  sweet- 
ness and  joyfuhiess  of  Christ's  disposition  and  habits 
than  this  defence  of  gladness  and  hilarity  in  his  dis- 
ciples. It  will  be  a  happy  day  for  the  world  when 
Christians  are  known  by  their  joy-inspiring  disposition. 
The  fruit  of  the  spirit  is  not  censoriousness,  self-tor- 
ment, dolor ;  but  "  love,  joy,  peace."  Religion  is  not 
like  those  fruits  which,  while  yet  green,  are  acid  and 
bitter,  and  only  fair  and  sweet  when  fully  ripe ;  it  is 
rather  like  the  bud  of  a  flower,  beautiful  in  its  bejrin- 
nings,  fairer  at  every  degree  of  expansion,  and  when 
wholly  open  surrounded  with  an  atmosphere  of  fra- 
grance. The  art  of  uniting  conscience  and  love,  joy 
and  earnestness,  self-restraint  and  liberty,  was  admira- 
bly exhibited  in  Jesus.  There  was  an  inward  concord 
of  all  his  faculties. 

It  was  such  questionings  as  to  the  nature  of  his 
religious  life  that  led  Jesus  to  declare  that  the  preva- 
lent religion  was  false  in  its  very  method.  There  was 
no  use  in  striving  to  mend  it.  The  improvement  would 
lie  upon  it  like  a  patch  of  new  cloth  on  an  old  gar- 
ment, —  the  very  mending  would  make  the  rent  worse. 
The  garment  must  be  thrown  away  and  a  new  one 
take  its  place.  A  system  of  formal,  outward  routine 
could  not  endure  the  pressure  of  that  enthusiasm  which 
a  spiritual  and  inward  faith  would  excite.  It  would  fly 
to  pieces,  as  an  old  and  rotten  wine-skin  would  if  new 
wine  were  to  ferment  in  it.  The  old  religion  had 
degenerated  into  a  bodily  routine  ;  the  new  was  to  be 
a  religion  of  the  pure  spirit.  The  one  was  servile,  the 
other  free  as  the  air.  Bondage  and  liberty  could  not 
be  united. 

Such  profound   discourses  sprung  up  from  hour  to 


24  TIIK  LIFE   OF  JESUFi,   THE   CTlRISr. 

hour.  We  have  not  preserved  to  iis,  if  John's  hyper- 
bole be  considered,  a  hundredth  part  of  them.  The 
questions  that  brought  forth  such  truths  were  often 
trivial,  the  occasions  insignificant.  But  the  strenui 
that  issues  does  not  depend  upon  the  size  of  the 
hand  that  opens  the  gate,  but  upon  the  reservoir 
which  supplies  the  flow. 

These  conferences  were  frequently  interrupted  by 
the  intrusion  of  some  sufferer,  driven  to  Jesus  for 
relief  While  he  was  in  the  midst  of  the  foreo-oino; 
discussions,  the  crowd  swayed  and  opened  to  let  in  a 
man  of  rank,  who  came  in  hot  haste  and  threw  him- 
self at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  impelled  by  a  grief  that  dashed 
through  all  ceremony.  It  was  a  ruler  named  Jairus. 
"  He  had  one  only  daughter,  about  twelve  years  of 
age,  and  she  lay  a-dying."  A  child  of  twelve  years 
in  the  Orient  is  as  old  as  at  seventeen  in  colder  cli- 
mates. This  girl  was  at  the  sweetest  period  of  life,  — 
young  enough  to  be  a  child,  old  enough  to  be  a  com- 
panion, mingling  the  charms  of  childhood  and  woman- 
hood. The  "only  daughter"!  Upon  her  had  been 
poured  a  lavish  love.  But  it  is  not  the  open  and  dis- 
cernible emotions  that  avail  most  in  producing  joy  or 
sorrow.  The  human  heart  throws  out  a  subtle  atmos- 
phere, in  which  love,  imagination,  hope,  joy,  pride,  are 
all  etherealized,  and  lifted  above  the  common  horizon 
of  emotion,  as  vapors  are  at  evening  when  the  depart- 
ing light  glances  all  manner  of  colors  along  the  ever- 
changing  fringes.  The  very  words  with  which  Jairus 
pleaded  for  his  child  seem  like  so  many  hands  caressing 
her.  "  My  little  daughter  lieth  at  the  point  of  death, 
[O  haste  !  ]  and  it  may  be  is  even  now  dead ;  but  I 
pray  thee  come  and  lay  thy  hands  upon  her,  that  she 
may  be  healed  ;  mikI  she  shall  live." 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  25 

All  rose  np  to  the  appeal ;  Jesus  first,  his  disciples 
too,  but  also  the  whole  multitude.  He  that  pleads  for 
children  has  all  hearts  in  his  hands.  And  so,  with 
quickening  pace,  they  went  after  the  father.  But  this 
strange  procession,  so  dense  that  it  crowded  upon 
the  person  of  Jesus,  was  suddenly  stopped.  It  seems 
that  a  woman,  twelve  years  an  invalid,  and  who  with- 
out doubt  had  heard  of  the  many  that  he  had  healed 
by  a  touch,  determined  to  try  secretly  whether  the 
same  benefit  might  not  come  to  her  by  touching  Jesus. 
She  stole  up  to  him  unobserved,  as  it  was  easy  to  do 
in  such  a  crowd.  No  sooner  had  she  laid  her  hands 
upon  his  garment  than  she  felt  the  thrill  of  health,  and 
knew  herself  to  be  restored !  Jesus,  too,  "  knowing 
in  himself  that  virtue  was  gone  out  of  him,"  paused, 
and,  looking  earnestly  about  him,  said, "  Somebody  hath 
touched  me."  His  asking  who  had  touched  him  seemed 
almost  ludicrous  to  Peter,  inasmuch  as  he  was  inces- 
santly touched,  and  on  every  side,  by  one  and  another 
in  the  hustling  crowd.  Jesus  knew  the  innocent  cul- 
prit, and  designed  to  make  an  illustration  of  her  faith. 
As  he  fixed  his  eye  upon  her,  she  could  no  longer  hide 
or  keep  silence,  but  fell  at  his  feet  and  confessed  both 
the  deed  and  its  beneficent  result.  Jesus  crowned 
her  new-made  health  by  words  whose  sweetness  could 
never  have  died  out  of  her  memory  :  "  Daughter,  be 
of  good  comfort :  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole  ;  go 
in  peace,  and  be  whole  of  thy  plague." 

At  this  moment  a  messenger  came  to  the  ruler  with 
tidings  that  the  daughter  was  dead.  "  Why  troublest 
thou  the  Rabbi  any  further  ?  "  But  Jesus  reassured 
him,  "  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe,  and  she  shall  be 
made  whole."     When  the  ruler's  dwelling  was  reached, 


20  I  III'-  1.IF1-:  OF  JESUS,  Tin-:  ciirist. 

it  had  all  the  Oriental  tokens  of  bereavement.  The 
friends  had  assembled,  the  professional  mourners  were 
pouring  forth  their  lamentation,  the  air  resounded  with 
wails.  Jesus  commanded  silence,  and  declared  that  the 
death,  so  soon  to  be  aroused,  was  only  a  sleep.  But 
the  attendants,  taking  his  speech  literally,  and  feeling 
that  their  professional  skill  was  set  at  naught,  turned 
upon  him  with  derision,  —  as  if  they  did  not  know 
whether  one  was  dead ! 

Jesus  shut  every  one  out  save  the  father  and 
mother  and  his  three  chief  disciples,  Peter,  James, 
and  John.  Then,  taking  the  child  by  the  hand,  he 
called  her  back  to  life.  At  his  voice  she  rose  up  and 
walked.  In  their  bewilderment  the  parents  seemed 
unfitted,  for  the  moment,  to  care  for  the  child.  Jesus, 
with  a  nursing  tenderness,  commanded  food  for  her. 
Though  he  enjoined  secrecy  upon  the  household,  such 
an  event  could  not  be  hidden.  "  The  fame  hereof  went 
abroad  into  all  that  land." 

When  Jesus  was  departing  from  this  scene,  two  blind 
men  cried  after  him.  Was  it  that  he  was  weary  of 
importunity  that  he  moved  on  as  if  he  did  not  hear 
them?  or  had  he  such  a  sense  of  spiritual  benefit 
that  he  reluctantly  conferred  physical  blessings  ?  The 
tantalizing  delay  which  he  so  often  practised  could 
come  from  neither  of  these  reasons,  but  from  a  desire 
to  produce  in  the  supplicant  an  intenser  earnestness, 
a  degree  of  that  faith  which  in  its  full  force  often 
gives  to  the  mind  control  over  external  physical  con- 
ditions. 

This  was  manifestly  the  case  in  regard  to  these  blind 
men.  He  questions  them,  "  Believe  ye  that  I  am  able 
to  do  this  ? "    The  answer  was  unequivocal, "  Ye<a,  Lord." 


THE  SOUL'S  PHYSICIAN.  27 

"  According  to  your  faith  be  it  unto  you."  He  made 
the  result  depend  upon  the  reaUty  of  their  faith.  They 
were  healed. 

While  the  blind  men  were  going  out  from  Jesus, 
there  came  a  party  bringing  in  a  case  of  demonic 
possession,  in  which  the  victim  was  dumb.  The 
healing  of  this  man,  together  with  the  restoration  to 
sight  of  the  blind  men,  produced  an  impression  far 
greater  than  the  simple  narrative  would  lead  us  to  ex- 
pect There  was  evidently  something  in  the  manner, 
in  the  circumstances,  or  in  the  temper  of  the  audience, 
which  gave  to  these  now  not  uncommon  deeds  of  Jesus 
a  peculiar  force.  The  people,  whose  history  was  crowded 
with  miracles,  cried  out,  "It  was  never  so  seen  in 
Israel."  And  his  enemies  were  at  their  wit's  end  to 
check  this  popular  confidence  in  Jesus.  They  gave  out 
that  Jesus  was  himself  under  demonic  influence  ;  that 
he  was  playing  a  part ;  and  that  the  expulsion  of 
demons  was  not  by  virtue  of  Divine  agency,  but  by 
infernal  power  lent  to  him.  This  saying  was  not  a 
passing  gibe,  for  it  was  soberly  employed  at  after 
times,  and  was  discussed  by  Jesus  and  effectually 
disposed    of 

It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  neither  at  this  time  nor 
at  any  other  was  the  reality  of  the  miracles  ques- 
tioned. The  Pharisees  regarded  the  facts  just  as  the 
common  people  did.  They  only  attempted  to  break 
their  force  by  attributing  them  to  an  evil  spirit,  and 
so  destroy  their  influence  upon  the  susceptible  minds 
of  the  people. 

Such  is  the  baleful  influence  of  a  fanatical  religion. 
They  did  not  love  suffering  for  itself;  they  were  not 
without  human  sympathies  ;  they  Avere  not  in  any  con- 


28  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

siderable  degree  worse  than  Christian  men  are  in  our 
day,  who  are  guarding  the  truth,  and  the  Church,  and 
the  "  cause  of  God  "  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  the 
Pharisees  defended  their  party.  They  saw  men  dehv- 
ered  from  terrible  thrall,  grievous  burdens  removed, 
diseases  healed,  sight  restored,  and  life  enriched,  but 
found  no  pleasure  therein ;  they  saw  joy,  like  sunlight, 
emerge  from  hindering  clouds,  spread  from  house  to 
house,  and  over  the  great  multitude,  but  felt  none  of 
its  cheer.  From  the  universal  gladness  they  derived 
no  satisfaction.  No  man  can  be  in  right  relations  to 
religion  to  whom  the  innocent  happiness  of  others 
brings  no  sympathetic  joy. 

No  man  rightly  loves  religion,  or  its  institutions, 
who  is  not  rendered  more  sensitive  to  the  great  nat- 
ural affections  of  mankind.  Institutions,  laws,  cus- 
toms, churches,  were  made  for  man,  not  men  for  them ; 
and  a  right  heart  keeps  in  vital  sympathy  with  living 
men. 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  29 


CHAPTER    XX. 

MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES. 

We  are  at  this  period  to  conceive  of  Jesus  as  one 
intensely  active  in  a  community  intensely  excited.  By 
repeated  circuits  he  had  taught  in  all  the  near  region 
around  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  except,  perhaps,  upon  the 
southern  shores.  His  miracles  had  inflamed  the  feel- 
ing of  wonder ;  his  personal  bearing  had  developed 
an  enthusiasm  of  social  sympathy;  his  teachings  had 
touched  in  many  the  deepest  spiritual  emotions  ;  —  for 
however  much  the  Jewish  religion  had  been  overlaid 
with  vain  ceremonies  the  root  was  sound,  and  there 
were  many  Jews  who,  like  Simeon  and  Nicodemus, 
sought  among  the  husks  the  true  grain.  The  hold 
which  Jesus  had  gained,  and  which  he  maintained,  was 
not  upon  the  popular  enthusiasm  alone,  or  the  vague 
expectancy  of  wondering  curiosity.  He  had  reached 
the  deepest  moral  sense  of  the  nation.  There  were 
not  a  few  "just  men"  in  every  gathering  whose  con- 
sciences bore  witness  to  the  truths  preached.  It  was 
this  under-strength  that  for  so  long  a  time  sustained 
Jesus  and  his  cause  against  the  now  thoroughly  aroused 
animosity  of  the  ruling  class. 

But  thouo;h  he  was  thus  securino;  the  silent  assent 
of  the  best  men  among  the  Jews,  they  were  unor- 
ganized, while  his  adversaries  had  in  their  hands  the 
whole  force  of  the  state.     None  could  have  known  this 


30  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

better  than  Jesus.  Yet  he  took  no  step  looking 
toward  counter-organization.  He  souglit  in  no  in- 
stance to  detach  his  disciples  from  the  influence  of 
national  institutions,  though  he  knew  how  the  rulers 
who  controlled  them  would  at  length  cause  them  to 
react  against  him.  He  relied  wholl}^  upon  the  spir- 
itual elements  of  his  ministry,  which  were  indestruc- 
tible ;  which  might  be  trodden  down,  but  onl}',  like 
wheat,  to  sprout  with  multiplied  life  ;  which  might  be 
overwhelmed,  but  only,  like  yeast,  to  pervade  the  cov- 
ering mass  with  its  own  vitality ;  which  might  be 
buried,  but  only,  like  coals,  to  be  in  the  morning  kin- 
dled again  to  a  blaze.  He  seems  never  to  have  cal- 
culated forces,  nor  to  have  arranged  any  conflict  for  a 
victory.  The  elevation  of  human  nature  to  a  higher 
spiritual  level  was  the  triumph  which  he  sought.  He 
never  mistook  the  nature  of  such  a  work,  or  acted  as 
if  it  could  come  to  pass  suddenly.  It  was  to  be  a 
gradual  development  through  the  ages.  To  this  end, 
day  and  night,  but  with  the  tranquillity  of  an  intense 
fervor,  he  sent  out  his  spirit,  rousing  and  unfolding 
that  which  Avas  best  in  every  class.  He  sought  out 
the  people  in  their  homes,  he  visited  them  as  ih^y 
labored  upon  sea  and  land;  he  resorted  to  places  of 
concourse,  the  city  gates,  the  highways ;  he  went  from 
village  to  village,  and  city  to  city,  with  repeated  cir- 
cuits, stimulating  attention  b}^  miracles,  winning  hearts 
by  kindness,  and  sowing  the  seed  of  the  kingdom  on 
all  soils,  whether  among  thorns,  upon  stones,  or  in 
good  ground.  The  very  results  of  his  labor  excited 
pity.  For  not  till  men  began  to  arouse,  and  reach 
out  for  a  higher  life,  would  their  ignorance  and  help- 
lessness become  apparent.     It  is  when  the  enfeebled 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  31 

patient  attempts  to  walk  that  his  weakness  is  manifest. 
These  were  his  own  countrymen,  that  he  beheld  "  scat- 
tered abroad  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd."  In  his 
deep  distress  he  said  to  his  disciples,  "  The  harvest 
truly  is  plenteous,  but  the  laborers  are  few  ;  pray  ye 
therefore  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  will  send 
forth  laborers  into  his  harvest."  Thus  it  was  that  he 
began  to  draw  them  into  the  ministry,  by  exciting  in 
them  a  sense  of  compassion  for  their  countrymen.  It 
was  impossible  that  he  should  meet  and  supply  per- 
sonally and  in  detail  the  spiritual  wants  which  he  had 
himself  excited.  He  desired  to  enlarge  his  circuit, 
and  to  make  known  the  coming  kingdom  to  every 
part  of  Palestine. 

Thus  far  his  disciples  had  been  but  loosety  gathered 
about  him.  It  is  probable  that  many  of  them  yet 
retained  a  hold  upon  their  former  occupations,  spend- 
ing a  portion  of  the  time  with  him.  This  would  be 
natural  and  easy  for  those  who  dwelt  in  and  around 
Capernaum,  and  who  sought  their  living  upon  the  Sea 
of  Galilee.  But  the  time  had  come  when  they  must 
be  teachers  as  well  as  learners,  —  not  disciples  only, 
but  masters  also. 

He  now  called  them  together  in  a  final  and  formal 
brotherhood ;  and  as  he  had  before  taught  them,  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the  great  elements  of  spiritual 
morality,  so  now  he  instructed  them,  before  they  began 
their  mission,  in  those  elements  which  belong  to  the 
work  of  joublic  teachers. 

It  is  plain  that  in  this  conversation  with  his  dis- 
ciples Jesus  had  regard,  not  simply  to  the  immediate 
circuits  which  they  were  to  make,  but  to  their  whole 
life-work,    as  witnesses  for  him  and  teachers    of  the 


32  THE  LIFE  OF  JESUS,   THE  CHRIST. 

people  after  he  was  gone  from  among  them.  We  can- 
not well  separate  the  instructions  given  to  the  twelve 
from  those  given  afterward  to  the  seventy.  They 
may  be  considered  as  one  discourse,  delivered  in  parts, 
at  difierent  times,  or  portions  of  it  repeated  on  differ- 
ent occasions.  For  the  disciples  were  not  all  sent  forth 
at  once.  Mark  says,  he  "  be(/an  to  send  them  forth  by 
two  and  two."  Thus  band  after  band  departed  to  the 
fields  pointed  out.  Any  one  who  has  ever  gone  into 
new  fields  of  labor  will  appreciate  the  wisdom  of  send- 
ing them  in  couples.  Two  men  in  company  are  worth, 
in  such  work,  four  separate  men.  Two  sticks  of  fuel 
will  carry  on  the  blaze,  while  one  would  go  out.  Two 
is  enough,  for  three,  or  four,  might  lead  to  divided 
counsel  and  strifes.  This  was  to  be  no  pleasure  trip ; 
the  errand  was  one  of  life  and  death.  The  instruc- 
tions as  to  their  personal  carriage  show  plainly  that 
they  were  to  lay  aside  every  hindrance,  and  strip  to 
their  work  like  men  ffoin^  iiito  a  race} 

Their  circuits  were  to  be  small,  and  to  be  traversed 
with  alacrity.  Hence  they  were  to  avoid  cumbersome 
baggage  ;  they  were  not  to  take  two  coats,  nor  provis- 
ions in  a  scrip  (or  haversack),  nor  were  they  to  delay 
till  they  could  raise  money  as  if  for  a  far-off  and  long- 
continued  campaign.     They  were  forbidden  to  salute 

*  The  curt  and  almost  discourteous  manner  apparently  enjoined  must 
not  be  judged  by  modern  manners,  but  by  those  which  isrevailed,  and  still 
jirevail,  in  Palestine.  Thomson  says  :  "  There  was  such  an  amount  of  in- 
sincerity, flattery,  and  falsehood  in  the  terms  of  the  salutation  ])rescribed 
by  etiquette,  that  our  Lord,  who  is  truth  itself,  desired  his  representatives 
to  flispense  with  them  as  far  as  possible,  and  perhaps  tacitly  rebuke  them. 
These  instructions  were  also  intended  to  rebuke  another  propensity  which 
an  Oriental  can  scarcely  resist,  no  matter  how  urgent  his  business.  If  he 
meets  an  acquaintance,  he  must  stop  and  make  an  endless  number  of  inqui- 
ries, and  answer  as  many.     K  they  come  upon  men  making  a  bargain,  or 


MIXISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  33 

men  by  the  way,  or  to  spend  their  time  in  going  from 
house  to  house  for  social  enjoyment.  They  were  not 
to  go  out  as  learned  rabbis,  stocked  with  lore,  but, 
like  their  Master,  they  were  to  strike  at  the  moral  con- 
sciousness of  men,  their  sense  of  sinfulness,  their  long- 
ing for  Divine  help,  their  gladness  of  hope  at  the  news 
that  the  kingdom  of  Divine  sympathy  and  succor  was 
come. 

For  daily  support  they  were  to  depend  upon  the 
generosity  of  those  who  felt  the  benefit  of  their  minis- 
trations. This  was  only  a  special  application  of  a 
great  moral  equity  familiar  to  the  whole  history  of 
the  Jews.  He  that  imparts  ideas  enriches  more  than 
he  who  gives  bread.  The  educators  of  a  nation  are  its 
benefactors.  Those  who  reap  harvests,  or  dig  ores, 
or  forge  mechanical  forces,  are  debtors  to  those  who 
keep  alive  the  spiritual  elements  of  society,  without 
which  as  an  indispensable  atmosphere  all  lower  forces 
become  vagrant  and  harmful.  It  was  wrought  into 
the  structure  of  Jewish  society,  that  the  tribe  in  whose 
hands  was  the  education  of  the  nation  should  be  sup- 
ported by  the  workers  of  the  nation.  The  intellectual 
and  spiritual,  from  the  first,  ranked  highest  of  all. 
This  is  not  an  arbitrary  decree,  but  stands  in  the  order 

discussing  any  other  matters,  they  must  pause,  and  intrude  their  own  ideas, 
and  enter  keenly  into  the  business,  though  it  in  no  wise  concerns  them." 
In  respect  to  the  injunction  "  Go  not  from  house  to  house,"  Thomson  says  : 
"  When  a  stranger  arrives  in  an  Oriental  village  or  an  encampment,  the 
neighbors,  one  after  another,  must  invite  him  to  eat  with  them.  There  is  a 
strict  etiquette  about  it,  involving  much  ostentation  and  hypocrisy  ;  and  a 
failure  in  the  due  observance  of  this  system  of  hospitality  is  violently  re- 
sented, and  often  leads  to  aUenations  and  feuds  among  neighbors  ;  it  also 
consumes  much  time,  causes  unusual  distraction  of  mind,  leads  to  levity, 
and  in  every  way  counteracts  the  success  of  a  spiritual  mission."  —  The 
Land  and  the  Book,  Vol.  I.  p.  534,  American  edition. 

VOL.    II.  3 


34  Tin-:  LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

of  nature.  No  soul  is  triil}^  inspired  which  does  not 
yearn  to  deal  bountifully  with  its  benefactor.  Gifts  of 
the  spirit  excite  a  more  exquisite  gratitude  than  any 
gift  of  the  hand.  All  spiritual  growth  is  b}^  a  remis- 
sion of  selfishness,  and  toward  spontaneous  generosity. 
The  same  warmth  of  spring  which  dissolves  the  frosts 
evokes  the  flowers  and  lets  loose  the  all-abounding 
summer.  No  man  will  suffer  want  whose  service  stirs 
the  inner  manhood  of  men.  This  does  not  forbid 
methodical  arrangements  for  the  support  of  pastors 
who  forego  lucrative  callings  and  give  themselves  to 
teaching ;  but  it  encourages  men  to  venture  into  needy 
fields  without  waiting  for  those  economical  adjustments 
which  are  but  organized  generosities,  and  which  will 
surely  follow  faithful  service. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  the  first  messengers  of  a 
Gospel  which  was  to  break  down  the  exclusiveness  of 
the  Jewish  religion,  and  bring  into  one  spirit  all  races 
and  nations,  should  be  expressly  forbidden  to  teach 
any  but  Jews.  "  Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles, 
and  into  any  city  of  the  Samaritans  enter  ye  not." 
There  was  a  double  reason  for  this.  They  were  not 
yet  enough  enlarged  in  mind,  or  sufftciently  catholic 
in  feeling,  to  deal  successfully  with  those  whom  their 
whole  education  and  the  public  sentiment  of  their  peo- 
ple led  them  to  dislike.  There  was  more  than  enough 
for  them  to  do  among  their  own  countrymen,  with 
wliom  the}'  were  in  lively  sympathy,  without  expos- 
ing them  to  unnecessary  odium  and  opposition  from 
tlie  Jews  by  entering  fields  of  labor  for  which  they 
were   not  (jualified. 

We  cannot  deal  fairly  with  the  record,  if  we  do  not 
notice  the  special  endowment  which  was  given  to  the 


MTNISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  35 

disciples  :  "  And  as  ye  go,  preach,  saying.  The  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Heal  the  sick,  cleanse  the 
lepers,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  devils."  Not  only  had 
they  power  to  abate  evils,  but  even  more  remarkable 
is  the  power  given  them  of  conferring  peace  and  joy : 
"  If  the  house  be  worthy,  let  your  peace  come  upon 
it ;  but  if  it  be  not  worthy,  let  your  peace  return  to 
you."  They  were  to  go  forth  clothed  with  more  than 
ordinary  human  power.  The  entrance  of  the  Divine 
spirit  upon  them  for  a  time  exalted  their  faculties  into 
a  superior  realm,  and  developed  a  power  over  men, 
and  over  nature,  which  commonly  lies  dormant,  but 
which  it  was  the  continual  aim  of  Jesus  to  develop. 

They  had  a  right  also  to  bear  condemnatory  witr 
ness  against  all  towns  and  villages  upon  which  the 
light  should  fall  and  be  criminally  refused.  "  Shake 
off  the  very  dust  from  your  feet  for  a  testimony  against 
them."  Here,  as  everywhere,  Jesus  adjudged  the  de- 
liberate resistance  of  men  to  their  enlightened  moral 
convictions  as  the  most  criminal  act  which  they  can 
commit.  The  vices  which  spring  from  men's  animal 
passions,  more  culpable  far  than  they  are  generally  es- 
teemed to  be,  are  yet  not  so  dangerous  as  the  crimes 
committed  by  men's  intellects  and  moral  faculties.  It 
shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rha,  in  the  day  of  judgment.,  than  for  that  city. 

If  their  enthusiasm  kindled  at  the  thought  of  going 
forth  with  such  royal  authority,  clothed  with  such 
singular  powers,  and  they  were  in  danger  of  being 
puffed  up  with  conceit  and  self  confidence,  the  continu- 
ing discourse  of  Jesus  was  calculated  to  disarm  that 
peril.  In  effect  he  said :  It  is  no  holiday  excursion 
on  which  you  go.     I  send  you  as  sheep  among  wolves. 


36  Till-:  LIFK   OF  .lEsrs,   THE   (11  HIST. 

You  are  not  to  relinquish  the  normal  use  of  your  fac- 
ulties because  you  have  Divine  help.  God  helps  men 
to  help  tlRMuselves.  Be  i/e  n'ise  as  serpenfs  and  liarmJess 
a^  dovvi<.  They  were  to  be  on  their  guard  both  against 
seduction  and  intimidation.  If  men  could  not  guile- 
fully lead  them  through  soft  ways  to  their  ends,  they 
would  turn  upon  them  with  bitter  words  and  vin- 
dictive persecution.  For  such  trials  they  needed  no 
other  preparation  than  the  indwelling  of  the  Divine 
Spirit.  Before  the  synagogue,  the  Sanhedrim,  the 
civil  court,  or  the  royal  court,  they  would  need  no 
cunning  art  of  pleading,  no  prearranged  argument. 
The  danger  would  bring  the  inspiration  that  should 
give  them  a  suitable  answer.  Their  simplicity,  their 
trust  in  God.  —  manly  courage  in  childlike  natures, — 
would  be  the  most  eloquent  defence,  as  well  as  the 
most  novel.  Whatever  else  was  needed,  God  would  pro- 
vide. //  is  not  ye  that  sjjcaJc,  hut  the  Spirit  of  your  Father 
which  speaJceth  in  you.  With  all  this,  do  not  expect  easy 
success.  You  carry  peace,  but  shall  see  discord  at 
every  step.  Truth  divides  men.  The  same  sun  that 
draws  forth  fragrant  flowers  sees  its  light  and  w^armth 
producing  poisonous  weeds.  Y"ou  carry  transcendent 
blessings,  and  yet  men  will  hate  you.  Tlie}^  are  com- 
mitted to  selfishness.  They  love  evil  pleasures.  Be 
not  surprised  ;  they  have  called  your  master  BcetzchuT)^ 
how  much  more  will  they  deride  you  !  Be  not  afraid 
(jf  them  ;  they  can  only  harm  your  body.  Fear  God 
rather,  in  whose  hands  is  your  spirit,  and  who  has 
dominion  over  you  here  and  hereafter.  Fear  Him  who 
is  tilttr  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  hell. 

But  in  all  this  inaugural  discourse  there  is  nothing 
more  remarkable  and  assuring  than  the  distinct  and 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  37 

vivid  inculcation  of  God's  special  and  particular  provi- 
dence, extending  not  alone  to  men  and  society,  but  to 
the  animated  kingdom  below  men.  Are  not  two  spar- 
ro?rs  sold  for  afiwthing  ?  and  one  of  them  shall  not  fall  on 

the  ground  mthout  f/our  Father Ye  are  of  more  value 

than  many  sparrotvs The  very  hairs  of  your  head  are 

all  numbered. 

Through  this  faith  in  a  personal  God,  who  is  mo- 
mently conscious  of  the  affairs  of  creation,  and  who  can 
through  natural  laws  execute  his  will  and  control  the 
events  of  life,  men  have  achieved  the  noblest  tasks, 
endured  patiently  the  severest  sufferings,  and  turned 
adversity  itself  into  benefit.  The  belief  in  a  God,  a 
present  help  in  time  of  need,  has  developed  heroic 
lives,  not  only  in  men  of  strength  and  ample  endow- 
ment, but  among  the  lowly,  the  weak,  the  ignorant. 
The  faith  in  a  God  not  excluded  from  his  domain 
by  any  barrier  of  natural  laws,  but  through  them 
working  the  counsels  of  his  will,  is  a  truth  so  in- 
vigorating and  consolatory  that  the  world  will  not 
let  it  die. 

It  is  probable  that  the  first  essay  of  the  disciples 
was  short.  They  were  unable  as  yet  to  carry  forward 
a  great  work.  They  urged  repentance  and  proclaimed 
the  Messiah.  This  was  familiar  ground  to  every  well- 
educated  Jew.  They  also  performed  acts  of  mercy, 
joining  a  practical  benevolence  to  instruction.  They 
cared  for  the  bodies  while  they  elevated  the  souls  of 
their  countrymen.  On  their  return,  news  came  of  the 
beheading  of  John  the  Baptist.  This  must  have  come 
near  to  all  of  them,  and  especially  to  those  who  had 
been  his  disciples.  They  had  just  been  warned  of  the 
sufferings  which  must  be  expected  by  those  who  resist 


38  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

the  evil  passions  of  mankind.     John's  martyrdom  was 
the  first  exemplification  of  it. 

Herod,  who  had  put  John  out  of  the  wa^y,  was  per- 
plexed at  the  accounts  given  of  the  wonderful  progress 
of  Jesus.  Such  a  Avidespread  excitement  could  not 
long  pervade  society  without  awakening  the  attention 
of  a  ruler  jealous  of  his  power  and  suspicious  of  every 
movement  that  might  disturb  its  security.  The  fame 
of  Jesus  sounded  in  the  palace.  Men  speculated  upon 
his  nature  and  designs.  Among  Herod's  attendants 
were  pious  Jews.  Some  thought  one  of  the  old 
prophets  had  returned.  EHjah  was  selected,  not, 
probabW,  from  any  supposed  strict  resemblance,  for 
there  could  hardly  be  two  natures  more  unlike.  The 
fitful  energy  of  the  half-civilized  prophet  of  the  wilder- 
ness, irregular,  impetuous,  terrible,  and  the  calm  and 
constant  dignity  of  Jesus,  had  nothing  in  common. 
There  were  some  who  said  that  John  had  come  to  life 
again.  This  opinion  seems  to  have  struck  Herod  as 
probable.  He  had  had  a  rude  admiration  of  the  stal- 
wart reformer  of  the  Jordan,  and  had  regretfully  suf- 
fered him  to  be  slain.  In  a  mind  brutal  and  debauched, 
religion  would  scarcely  rise  higher  than  a  confused 
superstition,  and  Herod  had  a  vague  notion  that  per- 
haps John  had  returned  to  life  clothed  with  marvellous 
power  from  the  other  world.  Therefore  mi(jht>/  ivorks  do 
show  forth  themselves  in  him.  Luke  adds  :  And  he  desired 
to  see  him.  This  might  have  been  only  curiosity.  But 
is  there  not,  even  in  brutal  natures,  at  times,  a  vague 
yearning  toward  the  good  ? 

Jesus  was  himself  deeply  moved  at  the  tidings  of 
John's  death.  It  threw  a  prophetic  shadow  upon  his 
path.     He  said  to  his  disciples.  Come  ye  yourselves  apart 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  39 

into  a  desert  place,  and  rest  aiohile.  It  is  not  good  to 
live  too  much  among  men.  Solitude  is  as  needful 
as  sleep.  In  ardent  society  men  are  giving  forth  or 
receiving  influence  incessantly.  Like  trees  blown  out 
of  shape  by  unmannerly  winds,  the  human  spirit  needs 
stillness  in  which  to  regain  its  equipoise  and  proper 
shape. 

Out  of  the  intense  excitement  of  the  crowd  — for 
there  tvere  many  coming  and  going,  and  tlieij  had  no  leisure 
so  much  as  to  eat  —  Jesus  withdrew,  and,  taking  ship, 
crossed  over  with  his  disciples  near  to  Bethsaida  Julias, 
on  the  northeast  coast  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  To  the 
east  of  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan  is  the  plain  of  Bu- 
taiah.  Wilson  describes  the  plain  as  two  and  a  half 
miles  long  by  one  and  a  half  wide.  Where  it  borders 
on  the  sea  it  is  marshy,  but  farther  inland  it  is  rich  and 
productive.  The  eastern  bound  abuts  upon  a  barren 
and  rugged  spur  of  the  mountain,  which  shuts  down  to 
the  lake.  Jesus,  who  loved  hills  and  mountains,  could 
hardly  have  found  a  place  more  fit  for  retirement  and 
easily  accessible  solitude  than  the  west  side  of  this 
mountain  spur.  That  he  ascended  a  certain  way  up  its 
rocky  side,  we  know  from  John.  Before  him  toward 
the  west  lay  the  verdant  plain,  and,  still  beyond,  the 
city  of  Bethsaida.  Scarcely  could  he  have  sat  down, 
before,  streaming  from  the  city,  he  beheld  vast  crowds 
of  people  coming  toward  him.  From  Capernaum  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Jordan  is  but  a  distance  of  two  miles,  and 
from  the  Jordan  across  the  plain  to  the  hill  but  about 
two  more. 

No  sooner  had  the  people  in  and  around  Capernaum 
seen  the  direction  taken  by  his  boat  than  they  followed 
along   the   shore,   rousing  village   and    town   as    they 


40  'J'HI'    fll'l-    ^^J'^  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

went ;  aiifl,  pushing  through  the  city  of  Bethsaida 
(which  Thomson  thinks  hiy  upon  both  banks  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Jordan),  bringing  fresh  recruits  at  every 
step,  they  swarmed  up  to  the  hill. 

Weary  and  Avorn  as  lie  was,  the  sight  of  this  eager 
crowd  touched  his  heart.  No  more  solitude  !  He  wel- 
comed them,  and  resumed  his  instruction,  and  "  healed 
them  that  had  need  of  healing."  Thus  a  day  that 
was  to  have  been  for  rest  proved  incessantly  laborious 
until  the  going  down  of  the  sun. 

By  this  time  the  disciples,  in  moving  about  among 
the  vast  throng,  began  to  see  signs  of  trouble.  Little 
children,  and  their  mothers,  and  hundreds  hanging  on 
the  outskirts,  must  have  begun  to  feel  hunger.  The 
disciples  counselled  him  to  send  the  multitude  away  to 
their  homes,  or  to  near  villages,  for  food.  Jesus  ques- 
tioned his  disciples,  and  found  that  they  had  but  five 
barley  loaves  and  two  small  fishes.  To  their  amaze- 
ment, Jesus  commanded  them  to  seat  the  vast  as- 
sembly upon  the  grass.  Then,  taking  the  loaves,  he 
looked  up,  breathed  a  blessing  upon  them,  and  began 
breaking  and  distributing  through  his  disciples  to  the 
multitude.  At  every  touch  the  loaf  increased.  Not 
only  did  the  people  satisfy  their  appetites  to  the  full, 
but  of  the  fragments  much  was  gathered  up,  —  twelve 
baskets. 

This  event  must  be  regarded  either  as  an  invention, 
an  apocryphal  story  pure  and  simple,  or  as  the  result 
of  direct  Divine  power,  acting  in  an  unusual  manner. 
It  was  an  act  done  in  broad  daylight,  in  a  place  where 
stores  of  provision  could  not  have  been  hidden,  in 
a  solitary  place  where  Jesus  had  gone  to  be  alone. 
Tile    explanations   of  miracles  of  healing   sometimes 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  41 

attempted  —  magnetism,  imagination,  clairvoyance  — 
can  have  no  semblance  of  plausibility  here. 

Reduce  the  number,  —  "five  thousand  men,  besides 
women  and  children,"  —  and  the  marvel  is  not  changed. 
If  there  were  but  five  thousand  in  all,  or  even  only 
five  hundred,  to  multiply  five  loaves  and  two  fishes 
for  the  supply  of  their  eager  appetites,  and  to  gather 
up  from  the  fragments  a  large  quantity,  would  be 
marvellous  enough.  It  was  not  a  glancing  event 
which  might  deceive  the  eyesight.  The  act  must 
have  continued  long ;  it  was  in  the  presence  of  the 
whole  throng ;  it  was  tested  by  the  mouths  of  hungry 
men.  Let  any  quartermaster  who  has  made  provision 
for  a  brigade  of  soldiers  say  whether  a  row-boat  could 
bring  the  required  supply,  or  whether  it  could  have 
been  secreted  in  the  wilderness.  The  transaction,  in 
the  simplicity  of  its  motive,  in  its  elevation  above  all 
known  natural  causes,  in  the  impossibility  of  illusion, 
as  well  as  in  its  humanity  and  naturalness,  stands  as 
a  fortress  among  miracles. 

This  event  marks  the  culmination  of  popular  enthu- 
siasm toward  Jesus.  From  this  date  decisive  influ- 
ences began  to  work,  and  he  never  again  had  the 
common  people  so  thoroughly  upon  his  side.  The 
moment  of  its  utmost  elevation  is  the  moment  when 
the  wave  is  breaking. 

At  this  period  of  his  ministry  Jesus  seems  to  have 
been  fairly  radiant  with  power.  His  divine  energy 
blazed  forth  incessantly.  The  days  were  coruscations 
of  miracles.  On  land  and  sea,  wherever  he  went,  the 
manifestation  of  Divine  power  leaped  forth  on  every 
side,  and  nature,  holding  on  its  accustomed  march, 
beheld  new   phenomena   shoot  across  its  paths,  with 


42  THE  uri:  JiP^iTEsus,  the  christ. 

bright  illuniiiiation,  taking  nothing  from  regularity, 
but  adding  something  from  the  direct  Divine  will. 

The  people,  already  enthusiastic,  were  transported  by 
this  wonder  of  power.  They  cried  out  that  the  Mes- 
siah had  come  !  This  was  he  !  Now  shall  there  be 
deliverance  in  Israel,  when  once  he  flings  off  his  dis- 
guise and  assumes  his  sceptre  !  In  their  eager  zeal 
they  determine  to  break  through  his  modest  disguise 
and  precipitate  his  royal  disclosure.  The}^  approach 
him  with  their  purposes.  He  draws  back.  They  de- 
termine "  to  take  him  by  force  "  and  "  to  make  him 
king."  His  disciples  seem  to  have  been  pleased  with 
the  movement,  and  to  have  lingered,  against  his  wishes, 
until  he  "  straightway  constrained  "  them  to  take  ship 
for  the  other  side,  while  he  dismissed  the  multitude. 

Jesus,  who,  after  the  crowd  dispersed,  ascended  the 
mountain,  spent  the  time  until  toward  morning  in 
prayer.  This  Divine  communion  was  his  rest  and  his 
food.  Prayer  is  at  once  a  Divine  inspiration  and  a 
human  instinct.  Souls  that  jDoint  upward  pray  by 
necessity  of  aspiration.  There  is  no  argument  for 
prayer,  any  more  than  for  breathing,  for  loving,  for 
hoping,  for  yearning  after  things  noble  and  spiritual. 
It  is  not  a  form  of  begging.  If  it  permits  solicitation, 
it  does  not  stop  at  that.  It  asks  as  a  child  asks. 
Under  the  tree  lies  much  fruit  which  dropped  of  its 
own  ripeness,  but  every  shake  will  bring  down  more 
that  the  bough  is  waiting  to  drop.  There  can  be  no 
argument  against  prayer,  but  only  against  a  narrow 
and  beggarly  view  of  it.  It  is  interchange  of  thought. 
It  is  soul  infolding  soul.  It  is  the  look  back  to  God, 
whose  face  has  shined  upon  the  heart  with  stimulating 
love. 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  43 

From  the  stillness  of  the  mountain  retreat,  Jesus  de- 
scended to  the  shore  of  the  stormy  lake.     Yonder  lay 
the  boat,  with  his  disciples  toiling  at  the  oar.     They 
had  been  blown  past  Bethsaida,  and  could   not  even 
hold  their  course  for  Capernaum,  but  were  drifting  to- 
ward the  plain  of  Genesareth,  an  hour  below  Caper- 
naum, on  the  western  side  of  the  lake.     It  was  not  far 
from  dawn,  —  the  fourth  watch.    Something  more  than 
the  tempest  befell  them, — a  great  fear.    With  wild  out- 
cry they  shuddered  at  what  seemed  to  them  a  spec- 
tre, moving  near  but  passing  by  them.    They  "  cried 
out  for  fear."     Across  the  wave  came  the  instant  re- 
sponse :  ''  Be  of  good  cheer ;  it  is  I :  be  not  afraid." 
Half  bewildered,  Peter,  like  himself,  rashly  demanded 
that  he  too  might  walk  upon  the  water.    To  such  as  he 
flxct  is  the  foundation  of  faith.     He  boldly  descended ; 
he  took  some  steps ;  but  it  was  a  strange  experience  to 
stand   upon  water!     Looking  upon  the   black  weaves 
gi'  ,>wing    gray   in    coming    twilight,  and    seeing   how 
boisterously  the    wind  blew,  he   began  to    sink,   and 
cried    out  again.      Jesus    led   him   back   to  the   ship, 
gently  chiding  his  doubts.     The  company  were  over- 
whelmed with  amazement,  and  prostrated  themselves 
before  their  master,  in  worship.     "  Of  a  truth  thou  art 
the  Son  of  God,"  they  said  ;  as  if,  a  few  hours  before, 
the  miracle  of  the  loaves  had  not  convinced  them  that 
their  master  was  the  true  Messiah  !     But  miracles  car- 
ried only  a   beam  of  hght,  not  general  illumination. 
They  astonished,  but  did  not  reason  or  instruct.     They 
were  employed  as  instruments  of  authentication,  and 
even  more,  of  practical  mercy.     Jesus  appealed  to  rea- 
son and  to  the  moral  sense  first :    miracles  were  but 
auxiliaries  to  these. 


44  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

Thej  landed  upon  the  plain  of  Genesareth,  now 
nninhabiti'd  and  overgrown  with  thorns,  but  then 
the  very  garden  of  Galilee,  and  praised  by  Josephiis 
in  tenns  almost  extravagant.  It  was  full  of  villages 
and  swarmed  with  population.  On  the  tidings  of  his 
presence  the  whole  region  poured  forth.  Such  now 
had  become  his  fame  as  a  healer,  that  the  sick  were 
l)rouglit  to  him  from  every  quarter.  Such  was  the 
confidence  which  he  wrought  that  men  besought  per- 
mission to  touch  his  garments,  "and  as  many  as 
touched  him  were  made  whole." 

Returning  toward  Capernaum,  he  met  the  multitudes 
again,  man 3^  of  whom  had  been  present  at  the  wonder- 
ful distribution  of  bread.  Jesus  perceived  that  many 
had  sought  him  from  the  most  mercenary  considera- 
tions. Ye  seek  me,  not  because  ye  smv  the  miracles,  but  be- 
cause ye  did  eat  of  the  loaves,  and  tvere  filial.  In  such  a 
crowd  every  side  of  human  nature  would  be  seen. 
While  some  followed  him  from  love,  some  from  moral 
sympathy,  some  from  curiosity,  many  followed  in  hope 
of  food  without  labor. 

The  conversation  which  followed  is  important,  both 
from  its  intrinsic  matter,  and  as  showing  how  from 
things  the  most  trivial  Jesus  deduced,  not  by  ingenious 
fancies,  but  by  a  simple  and  natural  unfolding,  the  pro- 
foundest  views  of  life  and  duty.  Men  saw  that  the 
commonest  things  had  vital  relations  with  the  moral 
sense,  and  that  seeming  trifles,  like  seeds,  dropped 
from  a  great  principle,  and  might  be  developed  again 
into  ii  ])rinciple. 

•'  Master,  when  camest  thou  hither  ?  " 

"  Ye  seek  me  not  even  for  the  sake  of  beholding  a 
miracle,  but  in  hopes  of  getting  food   without    labor. 


MINISTRY  OF   THE  DISCIPLES.  45 

Feed  the  soul,  and  not  the  body  only.  Seek  that  meat 
ivJdch  endureth  mUo  ever^lasting  life,  tvhich  the  Son  of  Man 
shall  give  unto  ijour 

"  What  shall  we  do  that  we  may  work  the  works  of 
God  ? " 

"  Believe  on  me,  whom  God  hath  sent." 

At  this  point  the  better  educated  Scribes  struck  in, 
evidently  men  who  had  not  been  present  at  the  scene 
of  the  distribution  of  the  bread.  "  What  sign  showest 
thou  then  ?  What  dost  thou  work  ?  This  bread  of 
which  you  speak,  is  it  better  than  our  fathers  ate 
in  the  wilderness,  the  heavenly  manna  ? " 

"  Moses  did  not  give  you  a  real  heavenly  bread 
when  he  gave  you  the  manna.  The  heavenly  bread 
must  feed  the  soul,  and  not  the  body.  The  bread  of 
God  must  be  a  living  loaf  It  is  He  which  cometh 
down  from  heaven,  and  giveth  life  unto  the  world." 

Then,  in  a  spirit  like  that  of  the  woman  of  Samaria 
when  she  said,  "  Give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst  not, 
neither  come  hither  to  draw,"  they  said,  "  Lord,  ever- 
more give  us  this  bread." 

Nothing  could  externally  seem  more  propitious  ;  and 
yet  the  time  had  come  when  the  people,  who  were  all 
aglow  with  enthusiasm  at  his  miracles,  were  on  the 
point  of  revolting  against  his  spiritual  teaching.  For 
when  Jesus  explicitly  declared,  "  I  am  the  bread  of 
life,"  and  distinctly  assumed  the  attributes  of  Divinity, 
solemnly  affirming  his  personal  power  to  confer  bless- 
ings upon  the  soul,  and  charged  them  with  guilt  in 
not  believing  in  him,  —  declared  himself  God's  imme- 
diate messenger,  clothed  with  a  judicial  power  of 
saving  or  excluding  men,  —  a  power  reaching  far  over 
into  the  great  future,  to  "  the  lad  day,"  —  the  power 


46  THE   LIFE   OF  JESTS,   THE   CHRIST. 

of  raising  them  from  the  cleatl,  and  establishing  them 
in  eternal  life,  —  there  was  a  general  movement  of  dis- 
content, which  broke  out  into  murmurings.  This  dis- 
course probably  brought  to  a  head  and  disclosed  a 
variety  of  influences  which  were  acting  upon  the  minds 
of  the  people  in  a  desultory  way.  High  excitements, 
unless  they  take  on  some  form  of  action,  soon  react. 

In  spite  of  every  effort,  Jesus  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  down  the  wild  tumult  of  enthusiasm  which  his 
presence  developed.  The  people  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  would  soon  give  them  some  organization,  or 
at  length  fashion  them  into  a  party  or  school.  They 
said,  doubtless,  "  All  this  teaching  is  ingenious  enough, 
and  very  well  in  its  way,  but  what  does  it  amount  to  ? 
Nothing  is  done.  When  will  his  lessons  take  on  a  prac- 
tical form  ?  "  They  attempted  to  force  this  result,  and 
to  compel  him  to  take  the  place  of  a  king.  He  re- 
fused to  be  king,  wdiich  all  his  power  evidently  fitted 
him  to  be,  but  assumed  instead  to  be  something  a 
great  deal  higher,  —  Son  of  God  !  Here  were  men  that 
had  known  him  from  childhood,  worked  with  him,  knew 
his  parents  and  all  his  kindred ;  and  when  they  heard 
him  calmly  claiming  that  he  came  down  from  heaven, 
they  cried  out,  "  Is  this  not  Jesus,  the  son  of  Joseph, 
whose  father  and  mother  we  know  ?  How  is  it  then 
that  he  saith,  I  came  down  from  heaven  ?  " 

In  reply,  Jesus  repeats  his  claim  of  life-giving  pow- 
er. He  assumes  authority  of  the  very  highest  kind. 
Throwing  aside  all  hesitation,  he  says  to  the  discon- 
tented, scowling  crowd  that  which  no  sane  man  could 
utter  of  himself  if  he  had  not  transcendent  reasons  for 
it :  /  a7n  the  living  bread  tvJdch  came  down  from  heaven. 
If  amj  man  eat  of  this  bread,  he  shall  live  forever  ;  and  the 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  47 

bread  that  I  ivill  give  is  my  flesh,  tvhich  I  ivill  give  for  the 
life  of  the  tvorld. 

They  ridiculed  this  idea  as  a  kind  of  cannibalism, 
breaking  up  into  knots,  and  disputing  excitedly,  "  How 
can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh?  " 

With  such,  to  them,  strange  discourse,  there  was  a 
bearing  which  commanded  attention.  They  would  have 
left  an  ordinary  man  amid  such  speeches  as  not  worth 
spending  time  upon.  But  this  man  stood  in  their  midst 
confronting  them  with  truths  and  claims  that  offended 
their  feelings,  and  yet  they  listened.  The  synagogue 
was  in  commotion,  —  for  this  scene  took  place  in  that 
brilliant  marble  s^aiagogue  in  Capernaum,  the  ruins  of 
which  are  yet  found,  revealing  its  magnitude  and  mag- 
nificence. 

Not  only  did  Jesus  attempt  no  excusatory  or  pal- 
liating explanation,  but  he  pushed  the  truth  home  in  a 
manner  growing  more  intense  with  every  sentence. 
Except  i/e  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  drink  his  tjtood, 
ye  have  no  life  in  you.  Repeating  that  offensive  phrase 
over  and  over,  he  says,  Whoso  eateth  my  flesh  and  drink- 
eth  my  hlood  hath  eternal  life,  and  I  will  raise  him  np  at 
the  last  day.  My  flesh  is  meat,  my  hlood  is  drink.  Eating 
my  flesh  and  drinking  my  hlood,  ye  dwell  in  me,  and  I  in  you. 
Hive  hy  the  Father,  and  so  he  that  eateth  me  sJiall  live  hy  me. 
This  phrase  did  not  sound  so  bloody  to  the  Jews,  who 
were  familiar  with  the  shedding  of  blood  in  sacrificial 
service  from  their  youth,  as  it  does  to  our  ears.  It  was 
the  thing  meant,  the  assumption  of  what  they  justly 
regarded  as  Divine  power,  that  inflamed  their  anger. 
But  the  time  had  come  for  a  more  full  disclosure  of  the 
nature  and  claims  of  Christ.  They  all  understood  him 
as  transcending  the  claims  of  a  prophet  simply,  and 


48  THE  LIFE   OF  JESUS,    THE   CHRIST. 

assuming  functions  absolutely  Divine,  and  in  a  manner 
perplexing  and  offensive.  For  he  took  the  natural 
symbols,  bread  and  flesh,  manna  and  sacrifice,  —  pe- 
culiarly sacred  to  the  Jews, —  and  put  them  beneath 
him,  claiming  not  simply  superiority,  but  that  these 
dear  and  venerable  symbols  had  no  sacredness  except 
what  they  had  derived  from  him,  and  he,  a  man  ob- 
scurely born,  and  raised  in  their  very  midst,  admitted 
to  no  religious  office,  not  even  having  had  an  education 
such  as  the  Scribes  always  had !  It  was  intolerable. 
They  had  been  fooled.  The  words  of  revolt  began  : 
"  This  is  a  hard  saying  ;  who  can  hear  it  ?  " 

His  disciples  felt  the  contagion.  They  joined  in  the 
complaint.  Jesus  replied  to  them,  straining  the  bow 
more  tensely,  and  driving  home  the  arrow  of  his  abso- 
lute divinity  and  heavenly  origin  to  the  uttermost. 
Wiat  and  if  ye  shall  see  the  Son  of  3Ian  ascend  up  where  he 
tvas  before?  He  then  declared  that  his  meaning  in  all 
these  teachings  could  not  be  understood  by  sensuous 
reason,  but  only  through  moral  sympathy.  It  required 
spiritual  intuition.      The  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  they 

are  spirit  and  they  are  life No  man  can  come  unto  me 

except  it  were  given  unto  him  of  my  Father. 

The  die  was  cast !  The  bands  were  broken.  "  From 
that  time  many  of  his  disciples  went  back  and  walked 
no  more  with  him."  Even  his  twelve  companions 
wavered,  and  gave  signs  of  abandoning  him.  He  was 
like  to  be  left  alone. 

The  multitude  he  let  go,  but  sought  to  draw  back 
his  disciples  to  tlieir  allegiance.  Turning  to  them, 
and  doubtless  with  all  that  intensity  of  countenance 
and  enu-ao-ino-ness  of  manner  of  which  we  have  seen 
repeated   instances,  he   said   tenderly,   117//  ye   also  go 


MINISTRY  OF  THE  DISCIPLES.  49 

mm//F  Never  did  Peter's  courage  and  enthusiasm 
better  become  him,  or  better  serve  his  fellows,  than 
when  he  swept  away  the  last  lingering  doubt :  Lord,  to 
tvhom  shall  we  go  /  tJiou  hast  the  ivords  of  eternal  life  ;  and 
tve  believe  and  are  sure  that  tJiou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of 
the  living  God. 


50  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

UNDER  THE   SHADOW. 

Although  the  scenes  last  recounted  took  place  on 
the  eve  of  the  Passover,  and  Jesus  was  accustomed 
to  observe  the  great  festivals  of  his  people,  and  cara- 
vans were  now  going~past  him,  thronghig  toward  Jeru- 
salem, he  did  not  choose  to  go  thither.  John  gives 
the  reason :  "  He  would  not  walk  in  Jewry  [JudaBa] 
because  the  Jews  sought  to  kill  him."  It  is  not  ne- 
cessary to  suppose  that  the  religious  authorities  were 
preternaturally  evil,  and  that  the  Temple  was  a  nest 
of  venomous  serpents.  That  there  were  among  them 
many  unprincipled  and  wicked  men  is  true ;  but  the 
body  of  the  educated  Jewish  classes  were  simply 
party  men,  and  had  the  vices  which  infest  partisans. 
They  were  jealous  of  their  personal  influence ;  they 
were  fiercely  attached  to  their  religious  system ;  they 
were  intense  by  nature,  and  fanatical  by  education ; 
they  had  the  awful  virtue  of  consistency  in  cruelty, 
for  they  would  kill  or  be  killed  with  equal  readiness 
for  their  religious  faith. 

But  this  Judasan  reformer  had  become  too  danger- 
ous to  be  tolerated.  The  leaders  may  be  imagined 
as  reasoning  thus  :  "  He  cannot  be  won.  He  can- 
not ])Q  silenced.  His  influence  grows.  His  works  or 
feats  of  necromancy  increase  every  day  in  number 
and  marvellousness.     The  people  are  gone  crazy  after 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  51 

him.  He  must  be  subdued.  Only  death  can  still  him, 
and  death  it  must  be.  When  the  whole  venerable 
fabric  of  the  Jewish  faith  is  at  stake,  what  is  the  life 
of  one  man  ?  It  is  not  we  that  seek  his  life.  He 
runs  upon  his  own  fate.  We  have  waited  long  enough, 
and  reasoned,  and  offered  terms  the  most  flattering. 
We  reap  only  denunciation  and  shame  before  the 
foolish  crowds.  If  he  will  perish,  his  blood  be  upon 
his  own  head !  The  Jewish  state  groans  under  too 
many  evils  already  to  be  patient  with  this  traitor  to 
the  faith  of  the  fathers,  who,  under  a  pretence  of  refor- 
mation, is  seeking  to  lead  away  the  whole  foolish 
common  people  from  their  religion.     Let  him  die ! " 

It  was  in  this  mood  that  they  heard  of  the  dissat- 
isfaction which  had  developed  itself  when,  instead  of 
taking  an  open  and  manly  ground  as  leader  of  a 
patriotic  revolution,  he  had  advanced  the  most  ex- 
traordinary claims  to  Divinity,  and  disgusted  even  his 
friends  with  pretensions  that  seemed  either  insolent 
or  insane. 

We  are  not  therefore  surprised  that  a  deputation 
from  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  at  Jerusalem  appeared 
in  Galilee,  to  take  advantage  of  this  favorable  change 
in  public  feeling,  and  still  further  to  alienate  the  people 
from  Jesus.  As  the  people  were  stone-blind  to  the 
real  interior  meaning  of  his  teachings  and  their  spirit- 
ual richness,  the  deputation  determined  to  play  upon 
their  superstitious  regard  for  the  national  customs. 

If  there  was  anything  which  was  becoming  in  the 
eye  of  a  Jew.  it  was  scrupulous  separateness  from  all 
other  people,  and  ceremonial  cleanness,  which  was  re- 
garded as  real  moral  cleanness.  A  good  Jew,  therefore, 
was  in  perpetual  fear  of  defilement,  and  lest  he  should 


52  UNDER   THE  SHADOW. 

unawares  touch  something  that  tainted  his  hands  witli 
uncleanness.  Thus  frequent  washing  had  become  a 
rituahstic  superstition,  nor  was  it  confined  to  the  per- 
son ;  if  earthen  vessels  were  ceremonially  unclean  they 
were  broken,  but  if  of  metal  or  stone  they  were  puri- 
fied by  washing,  as  also  were  utensils,  tables,  and  various 
other  things.  These  ceremonial  observances,  like  the 
siornino-  of  the  cross  in  modern  times,  were  not  burden- 
some ;  they  kept  the  conscience  in  good  content,  they 
appealed  to  the  national  pride  as  a  mark  of  the  supe- 
riority of  the  Jew  and  his  separateness  from  all  other 
people,  and,  handed  dow^n  by  the  elders  through  many 
years,  they  had  a  flavor  of  sanctity  and  patriotism. 

Now  in  regard  to  these  ritual  observances  Jesus  and 
his  disciples  were  conspicuously  indifferent.  "  Why 
walk  not  thy  disciples  according  to  the  tradition  of 
the  elders,  but  eat  bread  wdth  unwashen  hands  ? "  ask 
the  deputation.  For  their  purposes,  admirably  put ! 
"  See  what  the  effect  of  this  man's  teaching  is  upon  his 
disciples.  Is  giving  up  the  customs  of  the  fathers  the 
way  to  reform  ?  " 

The  reply  was  not  an  excuse,  but  an  attack,  quick 
and  irresistible.  "  Do  I  neglect  the  customs  of  the 
elders  ?  But  ye  break  the  commandments  of  God 
that  ye  may  keep  human  traditions.  Ye  have  put 
out  true  piety  by  a  pretence  of  saving  it."  Jesus 
then  pushes  home  the  charge  by  pointing  out  the 
shameless  ingratitude  of  which  a  child  might  be  guilty 
toward  a  parent  by  a  trick  of  tradition. 

He  knew  the  deadly  purpose  of  the  Scribes,  and 
was  in  no  mood  to  smooth  over  matters  which  lay  at 
the  root  of  morality.  Since  they  had  aimed  to  detach 
the  people  from  him,  Jesus  put  them  upon  trial  be- 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  53 

fore  the  people.  "  And  when  he  had  called  all  the 
people  unto  him,"  he  attacked  the  whole  system  of 
pernicious  ethics  by  which  these  pretentious  teachers 
were  destroying  the  very  vitals  of  piety,  and  leav- 
ing only  a  hollow  external  form.  Sin  lies  in  the 
emotions  and  motives.  He  is  evil  who  allows  himself 
to  think  evil.  What  if  meat  has  not  been  ceremonially 
purified,  —  is  a  man's  soul  hurt  by  the  eating  of  it  ? 

Jesus  fell  back  upon  the  great  natural  sentiments 
of  humanity.  Religion  is  not  the  carrying  out  of 
church  observances.  You  are  not  soiled  by  eating 
or  drinking  contrary  to  ritual  customs.  Nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  will  you  be  made  pure  even  by  rigidly 
conforming  to  every  church  rule.  It  is  the  heart 
that    determines    moral    condition.       Rio-ht    thouo-hts 

O  O 

and  right  actions  make  true  piety.  Wrong  thoughts 
indulged  and  evil  feelings  cherished  cannot  be  atoned 
for  by  religious  observances.  If  a  man  is  true,  kind, 
just,  noble  in  his  purposes,  he  may  let  the  traditions 
of  the  elders,  Jewish  or  Christian,  take  care  of  them- 
selves.    All  sanctity  lies  in  the  soul. 

We  have  but  a  shadow  of  the  full  discourse,  which 
baffled  the  designs  of  his  questioners,  and  left  them  in 
confusion  before  the  people  ;  for  his  disciples  came  to 
him,  saying,  "  Knowest  thou  that  the  Pharisees  were 
offended,  after  they  heard  this  saying  ? "  But  they 
were  not  to  be  pitied.  "  Let  them  alone  ;  they  are 
blind  leaders  of  the  blind.  And  if  the  blind  lead 
the  blind,  both  shall  fall  into  the  ditch." 

Although  he  had  thrown  back  his  immediate  assail- 
ants, there  Avere  many  reasons  why  Jesus  should 
suspend  his  labors  in  the  familiar  region  around   the 


54  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

Sea  of  Genesareth.  John's  death ;  the  news  that 
Herod,  whose  curiosity  was  dangerous,  was  making 
inquiries  as  if  anxious  to  see  Jesus ;  the  break  in  the 
feelings  of  his  followers  ;  the  presence  of  the  deputa- 
tion from  Jerusalem  to  watch  and  work  up  any  element 
of  discontent,  —  these  things  all  determined  Jesus  to 
withdraw  for  a  time  from  the  scenes  of  that  intense 
activity  which  had  characterized  the  few  past  months. 
Indeed,  this  was  the  end  of  his  ministry  around  the 
Sea  of  Galilee.  Hereafter  he  would  revisit  these  en- 
deared places,  but  only  transiently.  Capernaum  was 
no  longer  to  be  his  home.  The  crowds  would  push 
their  daily  traffic  upon  and  around  the  sea,  but  his 
mission  there  was  over,  and  after  a  few  distant  circuits 
he  would  begin  that  progress  toward  Jerusalem  which 
should  lead  to  his  death.  Then,  when  next  he  is  seen 
upon  the  shores  of  this  lake,  his  dispersed  followers 
will  be  found  again  at  their  nets,  and  he  will  walk 
before  them  as  one  returned  from  the  spirit  land, 
wearing  the  human  form,  but  in  a  manner  inefiable. 

The  real  state  of  public  feeling  at  this  crisis  cannot 
be  learned  by  the  simple  phrases  which  hint  it,  so  much 
as  by  the  effects  implied  in  the  conduct  of  Jesus.  The 
magnificent  series  of  miracles,  which  had  for  months 
been  as  the  overflow  of  Jordan,  shrank  back  to  cau- 
tious limits.  The  clamor  of  wonder  and  the  wild  en- 
thusiasm of  gratitude  were  restrained  with  growing 
strictness.  The  shadow  of  danger  fell  upon  him  from 
the  royal  court,  and  he  warned  his  disciples  to  "be- 
ware of  the  leaven  of  Herod."  He  also,  with  more 
emphatic  authority,  warns  them  of  the  machinations 
of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  not  alone  of  their 
dangerous  ethics,  their  subtle  insincerity,  but  of  that 


UNDER  THE  SHADOW.  55 

under-working,  that  sinister  management,  those  plots 
which  would  suddenly  break  out  from  this  "  leaven 
of  hypocrisy."  The  receding  tide  of  popular  favor, 
the  disajDpointment  and  discontent  of  ambitious  men 
looking  for  personal  and  political  advantage,  gave  to 
the  expert  Scribes  the  very  material  which  they 
needed  for  their  malign  purposes. 

This  condition  of  things  in  no  wise  lessened  the 
courage  of  Jesus  -,  he  met  every  encounter  with  an  al- 
most impetuous  boldness.  At  no  period  before  had 
he  so  followed  up  a  truth,  pressing  it  home  upon 
disliking  consciences  and  impaling  his  adversaries 
upon  it.  Instead  of  prudently  withholding  his  offen- 
sive claims,  he  every  day  divulged  them  more  clearly. 
But  as,  in  the  state  of  feeling  which  existed  and 
fermented,  this  course  would  soon  bring  on  a  violent 
issue,  before  his  hour  had  come,  he  seems  to  have  de- 
termined to  withdraw  from  observation,  and  to  return, 
if  at  all,  only  when  he  was  ready  for  his  passion  and 
final  sacrifice. 

That  seclusion  and  comparative  rest  were  sought, 
and  not  a  change  in  the  field  of  labor,  is  plain  both 
from  the  character  of  the  region  to  which  he  repaired, 
and  from  his  express  wishes,  which  are  mentioned  in 
Mark.  "  And  from  thence  Jesus  went  into  the  borders 
of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and  entered  into  an  house,  and 
umild  have  no  man  hiotv  it ;  but  he  could  not  be  hid." 
(Mark  vii.  24.)  It  was  not  to  the  sea-coast  nor  to 
the  cities  of  Tyre  and  Sidon  that  he  repaired,  for 
that  would  have  been  to  court  excitement.  There 
was  a  strip  of  land  along  the  river  Leontes  and  the 
Anti-Libanus  mountains,  about  five  miles  in  width,  and 
near  thirty  in  length,  which  had  Ijeen  in  controversy 


56  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

between  the  kings  of  Tyre  and  of  Palestine,  but  which 
was  made  over  to  Hiram  by  Solomon ;  and  this  was 
the  "  coast,"  or,  more  properly,  border-land,  —  a  re- 
gion eminently  suitable  to  Christ's  purpose  of  tem- 
porary retirement  and  rest. 

But  he  was  driven  thence  by  an  unexpected  scene. 
A  Gentile  woman  had  heard  of  him,  and  of  his  pres- 
ence in  that  region.  She  was  evidentl}-  a  woman  of 
great  intensity  of  feeling  and  strength  of  purpose. 
She  had  a  daughter  "  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil." 
Jesus  had  come  hither  for  seclusion.  To  grant  her 
request  would  set  the  whole  region  into  a  blaze  of 
excitement  and  drive  him  out.  "  He  answered  her 
not  a  word."  It  does  not  follow  that  his  silence  meant 
refusal.  This  woman  was  not  one  who  was  likely  to  go 
away  unanswered.  He  waited  for  the  bud  to  blossom. 
His  disciples,  seeing  only  the  exterior,  interfered  with 
officious  advice:  "Send  her  away,'for  she  crieth  after 
us."  He  signifies  to  them  that  a  larger  reason  than 
mere  personal  annoyance  might  have  been  urged ; 
namely,  that  to  the  Gentiles  the  light  would  shine 
when  first  he  had  prepared  his  own  countrymen. 
What  the  mother's  heart  enlightened  her  eyes  to 
see  in  his  delay,  what  his  disciples  did  not  perceive, 
now  became  manifest  as  she  pressed  forward  to  his 
very  person  and  fell  down  and  clasjDcd  his  feet  in 
the  manner  of  Oriental  worship,  while  her  drawn-back 
soul  like  a  bow  let  go  words  that  struck  like  arrows : 
"  Lord,  help  me  ! "  Love  can  afford  to  wait  when  it 
has  determined  to  grant;  for  even  utter  willingness 
loves  solicitation.  Jesus  tries  her  with  a  statement 
of  the  Jewish  view  of  the  proprieties  of  religious 
gifts:  "Let  the  children  first  be  filled;    for  it  is  not 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  57 

meet  to  take  the  children's  bread,  and  to  cast  it  to 
the  dogs."  Such  words  from  such  a  being  to  such  a 
woman,  —  a  mother,  pleading  for  a  lost  child,  and  that 
child  a  daughter !  But  men  throw  wood  upon  the  fire, 
not  as  clubs  to  put  it  out,  but  as  fuel,  to  make  it  blaze 
brighter  and  hotter.  What  is  quicker  in  reply  than 
love  ?  What  fence  can  parry  a  mother's  beseeching 
for  her  child  ?  Quick  as  thought  she  answered  back, 
in  words  full  of  boldness  and  humility  singularly  tem- 
pered together :  "  Truth,  Lord  ;  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the 
crumbs  which  fall  from  their  master's  table  !  " 

Admirable  !  This  woman's  soul  measured  his  own. 
She  was  no  longer  Jew  or  Greek.  She  was  a  woman, 
standing  upon  those  strong  affections  which  are  the 
glory  of  all  mankind,  and  whose  full  exercise  lifts 
one  above  all  the  specialities  and  distinctions  which 
society  breeds.  Jesus  met  her  wish  with  an  outburst 
of  reciprocal  feeling  :  0  ivoman !  great  is  thy  faith :  for 
this  saying  go  thy  way ;  he  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt : 
the  devil  is  gone  out  of  thy  daughter. 

This  intensity  of  a  high  purpose,  this  imperative  will, 
unrebukable,  impetuous,  persistent,  strong  in  the  cer- 
tainty of  the  goodness  of  its  desires,  reaches  to  the  soul 
of  God,  partakes  of  its  divine  power,  and  becomes  irre- 
sistible. A  noble  desire  becomes  a  purpose,  the  pur- 
pose draws  into  itself  the  soul's  whole  life,  then  it 
catches  the  divine  inspiration,  and  flames  forth  into 
victory.  In  its  transcendent  moods  the  soul  is  the 
highest  power  in  nature,  and  rules  natural  law  as  if 
it  were  a  part  of  the  Divine  will. 

For  this  picture  of  a  royal  soul  that  would  not  be 
turned  back  from  victory  we  are  indebted  to  Christ's 
silence  and  delay.     It  was  by  not  giving  at  once  that 


58  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

Jesus  disclosed  this  woman's  nature.  Had  he  answered 
her  wish  at  the  first  word,  we  should  have  been  with- 
out this  exquisite  scene.  Pity  that  the  record  drops 
her  out,  —  a  rare  gem,  glowing  for  a  moment,  and 
lost ! 

How  long  Jesus  had  been  in  his  comparative  soli- 
tude when  this  scene  took  place,  and  how  long  he 
remained,  we  have  no  means  of  determining.  Such  a 
miracle  would  be  apt  to  stir  up  the  whole  region,  and 
bring  ujDon  him  that  notoriety  which  it  was  his  very 
purpose  to  avoid. 

Aside  from  the  reasons  already  given,  after  such 
prolonged  and  excessive  labors  of  the  most  exhausting 
kind  as  he  had  undergone  for  months,  he  needed  rest. 
Going  northward,  he  traversed  the  border-land  of 
Sidon,  to  the  foot  of  Lebanon.  Turning  east,  he  came 
into  the  upper  region  of  Decapolis,  thus  passing 
around  the  sources  of  the  Jordan  to  the  north  of  the 
Sea  of  Galilee.^ 

Then  turning  southward,  he  came  again  to  the  head 
of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  on  the  eastern  shore.     This  was 

'  The  region  of  Decapolis  lay  east  of  the  Jordan,  with  the  exception  of  the 
little  territory  Scythopolis,  close  to  the  western  bank,  at  the  southern  end 
of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  In  addition  to  Damascus  and  ScythopoUs,  whose 
sites  are  well  known,  its  chief  towns  were  Gadara,  about  six  miles  south- 
east of  the  lake;  Pella,  on  the  side  of  the  ranjje  of  Gilead,  opposite  Scythop- 
olis ;  Philadelphia,  the  ancient  Rabboth- Amnion  ;  Gervasa,  whose  ruins 
are  the  most  magnificent  in  all  Palestine  ;  and  Canatha,  the  Keneth  of  the 
Bilile,  situated  eastward  among  the  mountains  of  Bashan.  Decaiiolis  was 
not  strictly  a  province,  like  Galilee,  Peraea,  or  Trachonitis.  It  was  rather  an 
assemblage  of  little  principalities  classed  together,  not  because  of  their 
geographical  position,  but  because  they  enjoyed  similar  privileges,  some- 
what like  the  Ilanse  towns  in  Germany.  Six  of  the  great  cities  of  the  De- 
capolis are  now  ruined  and  desolate,  and  the  others,  with  the  single  excep- 
tion of  Damascus,  are  reiiresented  Vjy  poor  miserable  villages.  —  Pkof.  J. 
Leslie  Portkr,  in  Kitto's  BihUcai  Cyclop<t:di<i. 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  59 

near  the  place  to  which  he  had  once  before  resorted 
for  solitude  and  rest, —  at  that  time  coming  to  it  from 
the  west.  It  was  here  that  the  great  miracle  of  the 
feeding  of  five  thousand  was  performed,  —  the  critical 
miracle  which,  though  thrilling  the  people  with  amaze- 
ment, yet,  strangely,  was  the  turning-point  in  his  in- 
fluence. There  is  no  mention  made  of  discourse  or 
miracle  during  this  journey,  though  he  afterwards 
taught  and  healed  in  Decapolis.  It  was  a  Gentile 
region.  Jesus  repeatedly  teaches  that  the  gospel  was 
to  come  first  to  the  Jews,  and  not  to  the  Gentiles. 
This  was  not  in  the  spirit  of  a  narrow  Jewish  national 
feeling.  Palestine  was  the  nest;  but  when  once  the 
truth  was  fledged,  it  should  fly  and  sing  in  every  land 
under  heaven. 

Once  more  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Sea  of  Gali- 
lee, Jesus  could  not  be  hid.  There  was  brought  to 
him  here  a  deaf-mute.  The  detail  of  the  process  of 
healing  is  remarkable.  It  was  not  by  a  word  of 
power,  but  by  certain  simple  actions,  which  simulated 
the  application  of  medical  remedies.  He  put  his  fin- 
ger into  the  deaf  man's  ear,  and  touched  the  dumb 
tongue  with  spittle  from  his  own  mouth  ;  he  raised 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  and,  sighing  deeply,  said,  "  Be 
opened  !  "  As  he  had  drawn  the  man  out  of  the  crowd 
that  seems  to  have  accompanied  him,  the  miracle  was 
seen  by  all.  Though  all  miracles  are  wonderful,  this 
one,  perhaps,  was  complicated,  or  had  peculiarly  pain- 
ful attributes  known  to  all,  and  therefore  excited  gen- 
eral sympathy.  Certainly,  the  sudden  transition  from 
voicelessness  and  utter  silence  into  a  world  ringing 
with  intelligible  sounds  would  be,  to  the  patient,  won- 
derful enough,  and  his  ecstatic  manner  might  well  ex- 


GO  UNDER   THE  SHADOW. 

cite  the  muUitude,  Then,  too,  the  conduct  of  Jesus 
was  peculiarly  impressive, — that  longing  upward  look, 
that  sigh,  —  as  of  one  who  for  the  moment  forgot 
that  any  were  looking  upon  him.  Either  of  these,  or, 
more  likely,  all  of  them  together,  inspired  an  uncon- 
trollable enthusiasm  in  the  crowd,  to  restrain  which 
Jesus  "  charged  them  to  tell  no  man " ;  and,  quite 
naturally,  "  the  more  he  charged  them,  so  much  the 
more  a  great  deal  they  published  it ;  and  were  beyond 
measure  astonished,  saying,  He  hath  done  all  things 
well :  he  maketh  both  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the  dumb 
to  speak."  It  would  seem  as  if  the  spectators  were 
in  part  those  who  had  heard  of,  or  even  participated 
in,  the  discontent  which  spread  abroad  after  the  mir- 
acle of  the  loaves,  and  this  exclamation,  "  He  hath 
done  all  things  well,"  was  uttered  as  if  vindicating 
Jesus  from  the  unjust  prejudice  which  had  grown  up. 

This  miracle  put  an  end  to  all  possibility  of  seclu- 
sion. At  once  there  swarmed  to  him  vast  numbers  of 
sick  of  every  description.  The  effect  upon  the  multi- 
tude was  most  salutary,  and  they  "  glorified  the  God  of 
I-sj-acl,"  —  a  phrase  which  would  have  double  signifi- 
cance if  we  suppose  that  it  was  used  by  Gentiles 
who  by  this  scene  were  drawn  toward  the  worship  of 
the  true  God.  Jesus  resumed  his  labors  of  instruction, 
and,  the  region  being  remote  from  towns,  he  a  second 
time  fed  the  multitude  by  repeating  the  miracle  of  the 
loaf  in  circumstances  strikingly  resembling  the  former 
occasion,  and  yet  indubitably  different. 

But  while  he  doubtless  found  many  of  his  country- 
men in  Decapolis  and  Peraea,  his  real  and  loved  field 
of  labor  was  the  other  side  of  the  lake  ;  and  we  soon 
find  him  crossing  to  the  west  side,  and  landing  at  Mag- 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  61 

dala,  a  beautiful  city  on  the  lower  margin  of  the  plain 
of  Genesareth.  Built  upon  a  level  plateau,  girded  in 
by  rocky  heights,  it  looked  out  over  the  chief  field  of 
his  labors.  But  there  were  other  things  to  remind  him 
of  past  life.  He  was  met  by  his  familiar  adversaries, 
who  seemed  now  to  be  acting  in  concert  throughout 
Galilee.  There  must  have  been  a  strong  current  run- 
ning, which  could  draw  in  the  self-indulgent  Sadducee, 
whose  name  now  first  apj)ears  as  in  active  co-opera- 
tion with  Pharisees.  After  his  considerable  absence  he 
returns  to  find  the  excitement  unabated,  and  his  first 
attempts  at  instruction  met  with  a  venomous  contro- 
versial spirit.  His  enemies,  taking  a  hint  from  the 
popular  reaction  that  followed  the  great  miracle  of 
the  loaves,  hoped  that  some  new  entanglement  might 
spring  out  from  a  profusion  of  his  mighty  works.  They 
"  began  to  question  with  him,  seeking  of  him  a  sign 
from  heaven,  tempting  lihnr  But  what  are  miracles  to 
men  in  heart  stone-blind  ?  What  would  signs  from 
heaven  be  to  men  who  were  shrewd  politically,  but 
unknowing  and  insensitive  to  spiritual  tokens?  The 
face  of  the  sky  they  could  discern,  but  its  depths,  from 
which  came  those  "  signs  of  the  times,"  from  far  within, 
they  could  not  discern. 

This  unkind  reception  went  to  his  heart.  His  hour 
was  drawing  near.  The  shadow  of  death  lay  upon 
him.  He  could  not  go  into  conflict  with  them.  As 
one  who,  lost  to  the  conscious  presence  of  spectators, 
turns  in  his  mind  some  weighty  interest,  until  with 
a  long,  deep  breath  he  wakes,  so,  says  Mark,  Jesus 
"sighed  deeply  in  his  spirit,"  or  from  the  depths  of 
his  soul,  and  said,  with  the  sad  words  of  a  veiled 
prophecy,  "  There  shall  no   sign  be   given   unto    this 


G2  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

generation  " ;  and  Matthew  adds  the  significant  clause, 
"  but  the  sign  of  the  prophet  Jonas."  The  story  of 
Jonah  gave  him  a  striking  analogue  of  his  own  com- 
ing fate. 

There  was  no  room  for  his  labor  among  the  ftimiliar 
haunts  on  the  western  shore.  As  he  turned  to  go 
again  to  his  boat,  the  whole  lake  lay  open  before  him, 
not  as  now  cinctured  with  solitary  hills,  but  edged 
with  towns  and  villages.  Beyond  to  the  east  run  the 
ranges  of  the  Jaulan  and  the  Hauran,  whose  sides 
and  valleys  fairly  sparkled  with  towns  and  magnificent 
cities,  even  the  ruins  of  which  now  excite  wonder. 
Never,  perhaps,  had  so  many  cities  been  built,  and 
filled  with  palaces,  temples,  theatres,  and  statues,  upon 
sites  remote  from  commerce,  and  selected  apparently 
for  their  romantic  scenic  beauty.  The  Romans  fol- 
lowed the  Greeks,  and  roads,  pavements,  bridges,  and 
towers  sprung  from  their  practical  civilization.  If 
Jesus  cast  his  eye  over  the  waters  to  those  near  or 
distant  heights,  from  their  purple  sides  they  must 
have  flashed  back  hints  and  glimpses  of  marvellous 
architectural  civilization,  beautiful  on  its  exterior,  with 
all  that  unscrupulous  wealth  and  imperial  power  could 
do,  but  within  heartless,  sick,  and  already  passing  away. 

Not  upon  these  would  his  eye  dwell  long,  but  upon 
the  familiar  circuit  of  the  Galilean  shore.  There  was 
Capernaum,  his  home  ;  beyond,  Chorazin ;  around  the 
bend  of  the  shore,  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan,  and,  on 
both  sides  of  it,  Bethsaida-Julias ;  while  fiirther  to  the 
left  and  north  stood  Safed,  that  "  city  on  a  hill  that 
cannot  be  hid " ;  and  far  behind,  rising  in  silent 
grandeur,  as  if  it  were  the  aerial  guardian  of  all  iha 
region  around,  rose  the  snow-clad  sunnnit  of  Hermon. 


UNDER   THE   SHADOW.  63 

He  loved  these  scenes.  If  the  human  soul  has  power 
to  clothe  external  nature  with  associations  which  give 
life  to  dead  things,  and  cover  rude  and  homely  ob- 
jects with  beauty,  how  much  richer  must  have  been 
the  atmosphere  thrown  around  the  scenes  of  his  child- 
hood, of  his  manhood  and  ministry,  by  such  a  soul  as 
Christ's ! 

He  left  Magdala  abruptly,  and  returned  to  the  east- 
ern shore.  The  time  was  come  to  arm  his  disciples 
against  those  poisoning  influences  which  were  filling 
the  air  as  with  a  malaria.  They  w^ere  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  resist  the  infection  of  social  sympathy. 
"  Beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees.  Take  heed 
of  the  leaven  of  the  Sadducees.  Be  on  your  guard 
against  the  dangerous  favor  of  Herod." 

The  words  fell  upon  their  ears  strangely.  They 
looked  at  each  other  and  whispered,  ''  Leaven  ?  It 
must  be  because  we  have  not  taken  bread  with  us; 
there  is  but  one  loaf"  And  these  were  the  instru- 
ments by  which  Jesus  was  to  work !  Well  as  he 
knew  them,  this  simplicity  of  undiscernment  surprised 
him ;  and  he  almost  sharply  calls  to  their  mind,  with 
catechetical  particularity,  the  two  miracles  of  feeding 
thousands,  by  way  of  rebuking  their  lack  of  faith  and 
of  understanding. 

Jesus  now  arrayed  himself  determinedly  against 
the  policy  and  influence  of  the  religious  teachers. 
There  could  be  no  fusion.  He  foresaw  the  result  to 
himself;  and  though  he  would  not  rush  hastily  forward 
to  danger,  his  manner  and  teaching  were  those  of  one 
who  is  devoted  to  death,  and  is  calmly  though  slowly 
moving  toward  it. 

At   Bethsaida  Julias  he   healed  a  blind  man,   and 


64  UNDER   THE  SHADOW. 

Mark  gives  the  manner  of  it  with-  a  circumstantiality 
which  makes  it  a  picture,  and  indicates,  too,  how  Jesus 
identified  himself  with  those  whom  he  healed.  He 
took  the  blind  man  hy  the  hand  ;  he  led  him  forth 
out  of  town,  still  holding  his  hand;  he  again  put 
spittle  upon  his  eyes,  as  if  it  had  a  medicinal  virtue 
in  it;  then  he  put  his  hand  upon  him,  asking  if  he 
saw  aught.  The  man  saw  things  yet  in  a  blur, — 
"men  as  trees  walking."  A  second  touch  restored 
him  to  clear  and  perfect  sight. 

Once  more  Jesus  leaves  the  sea,  and  goes  north 
again,  to  elude  the  active  intrusion  upon  him  of  the 
Scribes,  whose  fiery  questions  turned  discourses  of 
instruction  into  irritating  controversy,  and  were  in 
danger  of  drawing  his  hearers  into  parties,  rather  than 
of  developing  in  them  calm  and  sweet  dispositions. 

The  river  Jordan  draws  its  supply  from  three  sources. 
Farthest  to  the  north  is  the  Hasbany,  whose  earliest 
drops  trickle  from  the  melting  snows  of  Hermon. 
Next  in  the  descent,  and  coming  in  from  the  east,  is 
the  water  from  the  extraordinary  Pool  of  Dan.  "  A 
splendid  terebinth  and  a  not  less  splendid  oak  droop 
over  this  little  stream."  But  another,  and  historically 
by  far  the  most  interesting,  source  of  the  Descender 
(for  such  is  the  meaning  of  Jordan)  is  to  be  found  at 
Banias,  or,  as  it  was  more  generally  called,  Paneas  (in 
honor  of  a  sanctuary  there  placed  to  the  heathen  god 
Pan).  From  a  cave  in  the  base  of  a  mountain  issues  a 
broad  and  deep  stream,  in  our  day  rushing  forth  among 
carved  stones,  and  over  the  splendid  ruins  of  the 
famous  city  of  Ca}sarea  Philij)pi.  This  city  was  at  the 
extreme  bound  of  Palestine  on  the  north.  To  this 
neighborhood,  which  not  long  before  he  had  visited, 


UNDER   THE  SHADOW.  65 

Jesus  now  again  betook  himself.  It  is  not  probable 
that  he  entered  the  city.  Matthew  says,  "into  the 
coasts"  but  Mark,  "into  the  towns,  of  Caesarea  Philippi." 
It  was  a  pause  in  his  history.  He  seems  here  to  have 
been  much  in  contemplation  and  much  in  prayer. 
The  intervals  of  his  time  were  spent  with  his  disciples, 
for  he  devoted  himself  to  preparing  them  for  the 
scenes  which  lay  before  them,  and  upon  which  his 
thoughts  more  and  more  rested.  They  had  now  been 
with  him  during  the  most  active  part  of  his  minis- 
try. They  had  dwelt  in  the  most  intimate  relations. 
What  love  he  felt  for  his  friends  one  may  learn  from 
those  conversations  which  John  reports  just  before 
his  arrest,  and  which  in  tenderness  and  elevation 
have  no  equal  in  human  experience.  The  divine 
and  human  meet  in  these  expressions.  They  have 
the  intensest  spiritual  aspiration  united  to  a  pure 
passionate  human  sympathy. 

But  what  effect  had  this  long  familiarity  produced 
upon  the  souls  of  his  disciples  ?  Had  they  too  seen, 
wondered,  forgotten,  and  gone  back,  as  had  hundreds 
of  superficial  followers  ?  He  knew  how  feeble  was  the 
spiritual  element  in  them.  It  was  needful  to  give  to 
it  the  most  powerful  invigoration.  He  drew  them 
aside,  and  in  solitude  lifted  their  souls  up  into  the 
realm  of  prayer.  In  that  serene  and  wholesome  mood, 
in  which  the  turbid  elements  sink  to  the  bottom  and 
the  nobler  feelings  rise  and  rule,  Jesus  brings  them  to 
a  solemn  review  of  their  state,  and  of  their  truest  con- 
victions respecting  him.  He  inquires  of  them  what 
report  they  bring  of  the  j^ublic  sentiment  respecting 
him.  One  has  heard  the  Herodians  call  him  John 
the    Baptist.      Another   reports    that  by  some    he    is 


P6  UNDER   THE  SHADOW. 

called  Elijali,  who  was  universally  expected  to  come 
ajrain  before  the  Messiah.  Jeremiah,  and  one  and 
another  of  the  old  prophets,  were  mentioned  among 
the  people.  But  no  one  as  yet  had  thought,  or,  think- 
ing, had  dared  openly  to  avow,  that  Jesus  was  the 
long-expected  Messiah. 

But  tvhom  my  ye  that  I  am  ? 

In  view  of  the  scenes  of  discontent  and  opposition 
through  which  they  had  passed,  and  the  exhibition  of 
the  widely  various  popular  sentiment,  this  question 
was  a  challenge.  Peter,  before  all,  as  usual,  but 
with  an  inspiration  which  carried  him  up  to  an  in- 
tense enthusiasm  of  confidence,  answered  for  all,  that 
he  was  the  very  Messiah,  in  a  sense  which  far  out- 
ran the  highest  Jewish  expectation :  "  Thou  art 
THE  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God  " !  This 
glorious  enthusiasm  of  faith  brought  Peter  up  into 
the  realm  where  Christ  dwelt.  For  the  moment  all 
weakness  was  gone.  His  lower  nature  was  still.  The 
noblest  elements  in  their  highest  mood  reigned.  Upon 
Peter,  in  that  sublime  mood,  and  representing  as  in  a 
transfiguration  the  grand  element  of  faith,  Jesus  de- 
clared that  he  would  build  his  church.  To  Peter,  in 
this  refulgence  of  faith,  should  be  given  the  ke3^s ;  for 
he  that  has  such  intense  and  supernal  faith  can  open 
the  spiritual  door  and  lead  in  the  souls  of  others ;  in 
such  divine  exaltation  of  soul  he  would  discern  and 
judge  all  things  rightly,  binding  or  loosing  with  un- 
erring truth. 

The  coarse  external  interpretation  given  to  this 
scene  reduces  it  from  its  superior  spiritual  elevation, 
and  makes  it  an  act  of  external  ecclesiastical  mechan- 
ism J  which,  if  it  had  been  true,  would  surely  not  have 


UNDER  THE  SHADOW.  67 

been  left  by  Jesus  without  further  record,  forgotten 
by  the  Apostles,  and  not  claimed  by  Peter  himself. 

Rejoicing  in  this  unity  of  spirit  in  his  disciple  band, 
Jesus  did  not  deem  it  safe,  as  yet,  for  them  to  make 
his  personal  Messiahship  the  theme  of  teaching.  He 
strenuously  forbade  them  to  mention  it.  Quite  aside 
from  the  effect  which  would  be  produced  upon  the 
public  mind  in  its  agitation  was  the  fact  that  they 
themselves  were  not  in  a  condition  to  receive  the 
whole  truth. 

Jesus  now  attempted  to  prepare  them  for  that  which 
actually  lay  before  them  in  his  and  their  history.  With 
particularity  he  enumerates  the  sorrows  to  come.  He 
must  leave  Galilee  to  go  to  Jerusalem.  He  must 
suffer  much.  He  must  be  rejected  by  the  elders  of 
his  people.  He  must  be  slain,  but  should  be  raised 
again  from  the  dead.  At  first  these  teachings  seem  to 
have  been  imparted  to  the  disciples  alone  in  retirement. 
But  by  and  by,  Mark  says,  "he  spake  that  saying 
openlyT  Then  it  was  that  the  ever-patronizing  Peter 
'^Hook  him,  and  began  to  rebuke  him." 

The  Messiahship  rose  upon  their  imagination  in  all 
the  radiance  of  victory.  They  did  not  doubt  that 
there  was  a  concealed  royalty  in  Jesus.  He  was  a 
sun,  but  yet  behind  clouds.  Soon  he  would  shine 
forth,  and  every  cloud  would  be  gone,  when  his  glory 
should  fill  the  whole  heaven  and  shine  upon  all  the 
earth.  Humiliation  and  suffering  were  so  repugnant  to 
their  ideas  of  the  Messiah,  that,  when  in  the  retirement 
of  this  far  northern  border-land  he  be":an  to  foretell 
the  sufferings  which  lay  before  him,  especially  when 
he  said  it  publicly,  it  shocked  them  all,  and  Peter, 
always  the  prompt   spokesman,  undertook  to  rebuke 


08  UNDER  THE  SHADOW. 

this  despondency,  and  assure  him,  in  effect,  that  they 
would  defend  him.  "This  shall  not  be  unto  thee." 
Thus,  while  Peter  had  an  enthusiasm  of  fiiith  in  the 
supereminent  and  exalted  Messiah,  he  had  an  utter 
repugnance  to  that  suffering  which  was  to  be  the 
glory-producing  element.  If  the  benediction  pro- 
nounced upon  Peter,  in  the  acknowledgment  of 
Christ,  gave  him  perpetual  priority,  should  not  the 
malediction  which  this  unworthy  ignorance  called 
forth,  by  the  same  reasoning,  hold  to  the  end  ?  Mark, 
the  accurate,  says  :  "  And  when  he  had  turned  about, 
and  looked  on  his  disciples,  he  rebuked  Peter,  saying, 
Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  :  thou  art  an  offence  unto 
me  ;  for  thou  savorest  not  the  things  that  be  of  God, 
but  the  things  that  be  of  men." 

When  Peter  by  Divine  influence  was  exalted  into  a 
transcendent  spiritual  state,  the  prerogatives  of  that 
state  were  his ;  and  when  he  fell  back  under  the  influ- 
ence of  his  lower  and  Avorldly  nature,  the  weakness 
and  mischief  of  that  state  were  laid  upon  him.  It  is 
not  of  Peter  alone,  but  of  universal  man,  that  this  is 
true. 

Nothing  seems  to  have  impressed  the  disciples  more 
than  the  look  which,  under  excitement,  Jesus  had  the 
power  of  giving.  It  is  mentioned  unconsciously,  as 
a  force  which  they  had  felt,  rather  than  as  a  thing 
which  they  had  observed.  Every  feature  in  some  faces, 
when  kindled  from  Avithin,  is  a  tongue,  —  more  than 
a  tongue,  which  is  feeble  and  unrich  to  express  the 
deepest  emotions,  the  subtile,  the  complex,  and  the 
sudden  and  evanescent.  But  the  face  may,  like  an 
opal,  flash  mingled  colors  which  the  cunningest  brush 
cannot  catch  or  keep.     We  recall  our  friends  more  by 


UNDER  THE  SHADOW.  69 

looks  than  by  their  words.  It  is  the  look  at  meet^ 
ing,  or  the  look  at  parting,  or  the  expression  at  some 
moment  of  high  discourse,  that  the  memorj^  catches, 
and  fixes  as  an  ineftaceable  picture.  In  old  age,  when 
form,  and  words,  and  all  the  personality  besides,  have 
by  distance  grown  dim  as  clouds  on  the  horizon,  cer- 
tain sudden  radiant  looks  yet  float  and  vibrate  as 
faint  lightnings  do  in  those  same  evening  summer 
clouds. 

These  days  of  relative  solitude — for  there  is  evi- 
dence that  he  did  not  wholly  relinquish  the  office 
of  public  instruction,  probably  among  the  scattered 
Jews  of  this  Upper  Galilee  —  were  days  of  great  so- 
lemnity in  the  life  of  Jesus.  That  he  greatly  suffered 
in  spirit  can  hardly  be  doubted.  It  is  not  inconsist- 
ent with  our  view  of  the  Divine  nature  of  Christ,  and 
its  earthly  education,  to  suppose  that  he  entered  upon 
his  ministry  with  the  ardor  of  hope  and  youthful  in- 
experience. That  was  now  all  past.  He  had  come  to 
the  hard  reality.  It  had  been  revealed  to  him  by  his 
Father,  that  his  way  lay  through  suffering,  not  supe- 
riority, and  that  by  death  he  was  to  bring  life  to  men. 
No  doubt  the  "joy  that  was  set  before  him"  was  as 
clearly  seen  as  were  the  steps  of  sorrow  that  led  to 
it.  He  knew  that  for  this  experience  he  came  into 
the  world.  But  the  soul  is  dependent  for  its  moods 
upon  the  body  ;  and  he  had  his  periods  of  depression, 
like  any  other  incarnated  spirit. 

Human  life  was  a  continuous  discord  to  his  finely 
attuned  nature.  While  he  could  hope  to  change  it, 
he  labored  cheerfully;  when  the  conviction  flashed 
upon  him  that  he  was  "  rejected  of  men,"  that  "  his 
own  received  him  not,"  that  now  every  day  and  every 


70  UNDER   THE  SHADOW. 

step  brought  him  into  more  painful  collisions  and  to 
the  awful  tragedy  that  lay  piled  above  Jerusalem  like 
storm-clouds,  is  it  strange  that  he  felt  the  pangs  of 
dread  ?  —  not  the  fear  of  a  timid  or  cowardly  spirit,  but 
that  shrinking  with  which  a  generous  spirit  sees  the 
approach  of  evil  or  of  victorious  wrong.  In  part  was 
now  being  fulfilled  the  pathetic  description  in  the  Epis- 
tle to  the  Hebrews :  "  Who  in  the  days  of  his  flesh, 
when  he  had  offered  up  prayers  and  supplications, 
with  strong  crying  and  tears,  unto  Him  that  was  able 
to  save  him  from  death,  and  was  heard,  in  that  he 
feared  :  though  he  Avere  a  Son,  yet  learned  he  obe- 
dience by  the  things  which  he  suffered." 

There  was  need  then,  for  his  disciples'  sake  and  for 
his  own,  that  there  should  be  some  assuring  manifesta- 
tion from  on  high.  A  great  crisis  was  at  hand.  The 
weary  and  rejected  Teacher,  before  taking  further 
steps,  needed  reinvigoration.  The  Divine  manifesta- 
tion was  ready  and  waiting. 


»:iiii!i!iiiiiii!!iiiiiiiiiiiii:i, 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

LIGHT    TRIUMPHANT. 

In  all  Palestine  there  is  no  scenery  which  in  the 
combination  of  beauty  and  grandeur,  in  variety  and 
extent  of  view,  surpasses  that  of  which  Mount  Her- 
mon  is  the  mountain-centre,  well  called  in  Arabic 
Jebel  el  Sheik,  or  the -Mountain  Chief.  Its  principal 
summit  rises  nearly  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.  It  is  not,  says  Van  de  Velde,*  a  concial 
mountain,  like  Tabor,  with  one  high  summit  and 
a  base  distinctly  marked ;  it  is  a  whole  cluster  of 
mountains,  many  days'  journey  in  circumference,  with 
a  broad  ridge  of  summits,  the  highest  in  the  Holy 
Land.  Only  Lebanon,  that  stands  over  against  it  on 
the  west  and  north,  is  higher.  These  peaks  are  sur- 
rounded by  extensive  ranges  of  mountain  ridges,  in 
whose  deep,  gloomy  valleys  the  largest  rivers  in  the 
land  have  their  sources,  and  on  whose  slopes  of  incom- 
parable loveliness  once  lay  large  cities,  such  as  Baal-Gad, 
Baal-Hermon,  Beth-Rehob,  and  others.  Van  de  Velde 
is  enthusiastic  when  describing  the  peculiar  charms  of 
these  summits  :  "  Behind  the  first  dark  green  range 
are  seen  the  peaks  of  higher  mountains,  and  here  the 
pine  woods  are  sprinkled,  as  it  were,  with  silver  by  the 
snow,  giving  a  wonderful  contrast  of  light  and  shade. 
Behind  these   ridges,  and   high  above   them  all,  rises 

*  Syria  and  Palestine,  Vol.  I.  jip.  126-128,  142. 


72  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

one  broad  summit,  on  which  rest  deep  masses  of  all  but 
eternal  snows,  transformed  by  the  sunlight  to  a  trans- 
parent pale  gold  tint,  with  intermingled  gleams  of 
pearly  lustre,  such  as  never  yet  have  been  expressed 
by  painter's  art."  And  then  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm 
he  addresses  Mount  Hermon :  "  A  royal  prince  art 
thou,  an  image  of  the  '  Great  King  : '  and  that  look  of 
majesty  on  which  one  could  never  tire  of  gazing ;  that 
brow  of  pale  gold,  glittering  in  the  dark  blue  sky  ; 
those  dewy  mists  softly  falling  on  thy  woods  and  level 
downs ;  those  ravines  of  dark  deep  shade,  and  those 
tall  cliffs  smiling  in  the  sun's  bright  rays,  —  never  shall 
the  remembrance  of  these  thy  beauties  pass  from  me." 
It  must  have  been  something  admirable  that  could  so 
excite  this  pious  and  conscientious  man  of  facts.  In 
another  place  he  says :  "  The  enchanting  hues  which 
the  mountain  exhibited  that  evening  I  shall  never  for- 
get ;  I  could  have  stood  riveted  to  the  spot,  gazing, 
till  sight  had  failed  me,  on  the  snowy  crest  of  Mount 
Hermon.  It  was  no  such  white  as  the  snow-fields  of 
our  own  country  present.  The  setting  sun  trans- 
formed it  to  a  peach-blossom  tint,  opaque  and  yet 
transparent,  white  and  yet  combining  a  thousand 
shades.  This  white  of  Hermon's  brow,  it  is  the  blend- 
ing of  the  seven  primitive  colors  in  the  prism  or  in  the 
clouds,  —  colorless,  and  yet  all  hues  are  in  it." 

Upon  one  of  the  southern  spurs  of  Mount  Hermon, 
and  probably  in  the  vicinity  of  Ca^sarea  Philippi,  it  was 
that  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events  of  Christ's 
earthly  life  took   place. 

In  all  the  miracles  which  in  extraordinary  profusion 
came  from  his  hand,  not  a  single  one  had  been  exer- 
cised upon  his  own  person.     He  had  raised  the  dead, 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  73 

healed  the  most  desperate  diseases,  cast  out  demons 
from  persons  possessed,  changed  water  to  wine,  and 
multiplied  bread  ;  but  he  had  never  in  any  manner 
wrought  in  his  own  behalf,  nor  in  any  way  changed 
himself.  It  is  true  that  his  face  at  times  assumed  an 
expression  which  filled  spectators  with  awe  ;  but  there 
was  in  it  nothing  miraculous.  The  only  approach  thus 
far  in  his  history  to  a  miracle  upon  his  own  person 
was  the  act  of  walking  upon  the  water  in  a  stormy 
night.  If  he  were  a  pretender  seeking  to  bewilder 
the  people,  or  if,  in  a  superstitious  age,  unskilful 
inventors  of  fiction  or  moulders  of  myths  liad  at- 
tempted to  depict  a  religious  hero,  it  would  be  natural, 
almost  certain,  that  some  augmentation  of  his  personal 
appearance  would  have  been  attempted.  But  there  is 
a  singular  modesty  in  the  sacred  narratives  respecting 
the  person  of  Jesus.  Only  the  most  unconscious  hints 
fall  out  in  respect  to  his  bearing.  He  never  dilated  in 
stature,  nor  dazzled  men  with  sudden  effulgence.  In 
later  days  superstitious  art,  indeed,  put  a  halo  about 
his  head,  and  gave  him  distinctive  physical  marks  of 
Divinity.  But  this  is  worse  than  invention  ;  it  is  false 
witness.  Jesus  scrupulously  avoided  anything  which 
should  render  him  personally  conspicuous.  He  was 
"  like  unto  his  brethren." 

The  occasion  must  be  deemed  extraordinary,  then, 
on  which  Jesus  should  change  his  personal  appearance. 
The  scene  of  the  transfiguration  is  narrated  by  the 
three  Evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke,  but  not 
by  John,  though  he  was  a  witness  of  it. 

Leaving  his  other  disciples  below,  he  took  Peter, 
James,  and  John,  and  ascended  a  high  mountain  for 
purposes  of  devotion.     No  one  who  has   experienced 


74  LIGHT   TRIUMPHANT. 

the  solemn  exhilariition  of  soul  Avliich  conies  upon  high 
mountains  will  wonder  that  Jesus  loved  mountains  for 
places  of  devotion. 

It  would  seem  that  while  he  was  praying  the  disci- 
ples fell  asleep.  Awakening,  they  saw  their  master 
standinii:  with  two  u'lorious  forms,  w'liich  were  Moses 
and  Elijah,  —  the  great  lawgiver  and  the  great  re- 
former, revered  by  the  Jews  above  all  other  names  in 
their  history.  If  these  spirits-  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect appeared  to  them  in  glory,  how  much  more  w'ere 
they  amazed  to  behold  Jesus.  The  fashion  of  his  coun- 
tenance was  altered.  His  face  did  shine  as  the  sun. 
His  raiment  became  shining,  exceeding  white,  and 
glistening  as  the  very  light,  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth 
could  w'hiten  it.  What  was  all  this  ?  The  theme  of 
conversation  was  to  them  as  strange  as  the  radiancy 
of  the  company.  Moses  and  Elias  were  communing 
with  Jesus  of  his  approaching  sufferings  and  death  ! 
They  had  heard  the  story  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  be- 
fore, but  neither  then  nor  now  could  they  comprehend 
it.  How  long  the  heavenly  vision  lasted  we  know  not. 
No  word  was  spoken  by  the  disciples  till  these  great 
Names  of  the  Old  Dispensation  had  finished  their 
solemn  converse  with  the  Divine  founder  of  the  New. 
The  scene  overwhelmed  the  disciples.  Peter,  as  one 
who  talks  in  his  sleep,  proposed  that  they  should  build 
booths,  or  tabernacles,  for  each  of  the  radiant  actors 
in  this  bewildering  colloquy,  "  not  knowing  wdiat  he 
said,  for  they  were  sore  afraid."  But  the  scene  was 
not  ended.  A  luminous  cloud  overhung  the  mountain 
and  enveloped  them ;  their  fear  was  increased  as  it 
came  upon  and  brooded  over  them.  From  out  the 
interior  of  this  cloud  came  a  voice,  saying,   This  is  my 


LI  GUT  TIUUMPUANT.  75 

beloved  Son,  in  ivhom  I  am  ivell  pleased ;  hear  ye  him. 
Fear  dissolved  their  strength.  They  fell"  with  their 
faces  to  the  ground,  as  in  a  swoon.  Jesus  consoled 
them.  He  laid  his  hands  upon  them,  and  said,  ''•'  Arise, 
and  be  not  afraid." 

This  is  not  expressly  called  a  miracle  ;  but  it  is  not 
possible  to  be  explained  on  other  grounds.  Was  it  a 
dream  of  the  disciples?  Or  awaking  from  sleep,  did 
they  see  their  master  standing  with  his  form  relieved 
upon  the  glowing  heights  of  snowy  Hermon,  seeming 
himself  to  be  luminous  because  standing  in  the  re- 
flected light  ?  Yet  no  one  who  has  ever  looked  at 
evening  upon  a  tree  against  the  background  of  a  glow- 
ing sunset  sky,  but  knows  that  the  tree  lies  Hack 
against  the  sky.  Nothing  would  have  more  sharply 
limited  and  defined  the  opaque  form  of  Jesus  than  the 
shining  background  of  Hermon.  The  noble  forms  of 
the  prophets,  were  they  optical  illusions  ?  The  de- 
scending cloud,  flushed  with  light,  the  voice  sounding 
out  from  within  its  folds,  and,  above  all,  the  solemn 
testimony  to  the  Divinity  of  their  master,  —  were  all 
these  parts  of  the  magic  wrought  by  that  magnificent 
Hermon  ?  Is  it  not  easier  to  accept  a  miracle  than 
such  an  explanation  ? 

The  transfiguration,  as  it  was  the  most  sublime  of 
the  miracles  of  Jesus,  so  was  it  the  most  secluded.  It 
was  hidden  from  the  sight  of  the  people.  Not  even  all 
of  his  twelve  disciples  witnessed  it ;  three  only  were 
specially  selected.  Not  Hermon  itself  surpassed  it  in 
solitariness,  nor  equalled  it  in  silent  grandeur.  Jesus 
specially  charged  the  three  to  keep  the  vision  as  a 
sacred  secret  until  after  his  sufferings  and  resurrection. 
Was  this,  then,  an  event  which  was  to  find  its  uses 


76  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

exclusively  in  Jesus  himself  ?  Those  who  have  noticed 
the  sadness  which  had  fallen  upon  him,  liis  anxiety  for 
the  future  ol"  liis  disciples,  the  forebodings  of  his  re- 
jection and  of  his  contumelious  suffering  and  death, 
and  who  call  to  mind  that  in  a  later  scene  of  sorrow 
an^rels  were  sent  to  comfort  him,  will  not  doubt  that 
this  sacred  conference  was  designed  primarily  to  con- 
sole and  refresh  the  heart  of  the  Saviour.  Indeed, 
from  this  hour  Jesus  seems  like  one  who  is  consciously 
travelling  toward  a  great  tragedy  with  the  calmness 
of  a  purpose  unalterably  fixed.  There  came  times  of 
overshadowing  grief,  but  no  struggle  except  the  last 
in  Gethseniane. 

By  this  heavenly  vision,  also,  his  disciples  were  to 
be  steadfastly  held  when  everything  on  which  their 
hopes  had  rested  should  be  swept  away.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  root  out  the  false  notion  of  a  lifelong  educa- 
tion by  the  force  of  words  merelj^  From  childhood 
they  had  been  taught  out  of  their  Sacred  Writings  that 
the  Messiah  should  found  an  earthly  kingdom,  and  that 
he  should  rule  forever.  They  had  heard  it  at  their 
mothers'  knees.  The  synagogue  dwelt  upon  it  Rev- 
erend teachers,  disputing  upon  other  things,  agreed  in 
this.  Such  teaching  does  not  create  in  the  mind 
vague  notions  which  may  be  taken  down  at  will,  like 
a  garment,  to  be  easily  refashioned.  By  some  fierce 
fire  they  may  be  drawn  forth,  but  not  by  any  mere 
didactic  instruction. 

Certain  effects  of  childhood  training  remain  but  lit- 
tle changed  even  when  ripe  years  have  changed  men's 
philosophy.  Superstitions  remain  as  feelings  long  after 
our  intellect  discards  them.  The  moral  sense  holds  on 
in  secret,  even  when  a  life  of  wickedness  has  covered 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  77 

it  over  with  poisonous  vines.  Some  prejudices,  some 
superstitions,  some  falsities,  can  be  fully  done  away 
with  only  by  some  wrench  such  as  an  earthquake  gives, 
by  some  shock  which  shall  overmaster  the  moral  sense 
through  the  imagination  or  the  emotions.  Thus  was 
Paul  dealt  with  near  Damascus. 

There  must  come  a  time  when  Jesus  would  no 
longer  be  the  one  man  whom  all  the  people  revered. 
That  power,  which  even  the  unreasoning  force  of 
nature  obeyed,  would  seem  to  forsake  him.  The  rulers 
would  hold  him  in  captivity.  The  Roman  government 
would  extend  no  protection,  and  would  withdraw  all 
restraint  from  the  passions  of  the  Jewish  rulers.  The 
disciples  would  behold  him  judged,  crowned  with 
thorns,  scornfully  despised,  and  without  power  to  break 
a  band,  to  cast  off  the  ^cross,  to  resist  his  persecutors,  or 
to  escape  from  them.  They  would  see  him  crucified, 
and  then,  when  the  stone  shut  him  into  the  sepulchre, 
what  would  the  whole  world  be  to  these  helpless  creat- 
ures but  a  tomb  ?  But  if,  while  floating  darkly  across 
this  dead  sea,  there  should  come  to  them,  not  ao;ain 
their  Master  walking  on  the  waves,  but  their  memory 
of  him  glorified  and  attested,  and  of  those  spectral  wit- 
nesses, Moses  and  Elias,  in  whom  was  personitied  the 
nation's  patriotism  and  religion,  there  would  be  a 
hope,  a  faith,  though  feeble,  that  yet  would  not  be 
extinguished,  and  M^ould  hold  them  steadfast  in  the 
allegiance  of  love  in  spite  of  disaster  and  the  adverse 
current  of  public  feeling.  The  impressions  which  the 
reason  receives  through  the  imagination  are  more  last- 
ing than  any  other ;  and  though  the  mountain  vision 
was  received  through  the  senses,  its  whole  influence 
must  have  been  to  kindle  through  the  imagination  a 


78  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

reliijrioiis  enthusiasm  that  would  endure  even  when  the 

O 

sight  of  tlie  ej'es  should  fail  them. 

Why  should  Moses  and  Elias  have  heen  chosen, 
rather  than  Abraham,  Samuel,  or  David?  Greatly  as 
these  all  were  revered  b}'  the  Jews,  yet  Moses  was  the 
organizer  of  the  Jewish  religious  system,  and  Ehas  was 
the  greatest  reformer  that  had  ever  arisen  und(?r  it. 
The  witness  of  these  two  national  worthies  would  be 
more  impressive  than  of  any  others.  If  this  adaptation 
to  the  effects  to  be  produced  upon  the  human  mind  be 
admitted,  it  will  open  a  side  question  of  deep  interest ; 
njunely,  whether  in  the  ministration  of  angels  which  is 
taught  in  Sacred  Scriptures  there  is  not  the  same 
merciful  adaptation  to  personal  wants,  and  whether  we 
may  not  cherish  without  fault  the  feeling  that  those 
who  have  loved  us  most  wisely  on  earth  are  not  de- 
puted to  be  our  guardians.  It  would  seem  reasonable 
that  those  who  were  di-awn  to  us  with  most  intense 
personal  sympathy  would  best  fulfil  the  merciful  in- 
tents of  Divine  Love. 

A  part  of  two  days  was  spent  upon  the  mountain ; 
but  we  have  no  clew  or  hint  by  which  to  determine 
whether  the  transfiguration  took  place  in  the  evening 
of  the  one  or  the  morning  of  the  other.  In  descending 
from  the  mountain  "on  the  next  day,"  the  disciples 
question  Jesus  as  to  a  difficult}^  which  the  Scribes  had 
evidently  raised  in  their  minds  in  some  of  their  contro- 
versies. Why  say  the  Scribes  that  Elijah  must  come 
before  the  Messiah  ?  Jesus  declares  that  John  the  Bap- 
tist answered  to  Elijah,  and  then  reiterates  his  decla- 
rations that  the  Messiah  did  not  come  to  reign  with 
temporal  power,  but  to  "  suffer  many  things."  They 
heard  it  with  the  outward  ear ;  but  it  was  long  before 


LI  GUT  TRIUMPHANT.  79 

there  awoke  within  them  a  purer,  sweeter,  and  more 
natural  conception  of  a  spiritual  kingdom,  —  a  Messiah 
who  should  rule  by  influence,  not  by  authority,  and 
who  should  by  love  make  even  his  enemies  willing  in 
the  day  of  his  power. 

They  descended  from  the  brilliant  vision  of  heav- 
enly glory.  As  the  face  of  Moses  shone  when  he  came 
down  from  Sinai,  so  there  was  yet  lingering  upon  Jesus 
something  of  the  resplendency  of  the  transfiguration. 
For,  as  he  drew  near,  the  people  ran  toward  him,  but, 
stopping  to  look,  they  were  filled  with  astonishment. 
"  All  the  people,  when  they  beheld  him,  were  greatly 
amazed,  and,  running  to  him,  saluted  him,"  It  was 
not  surely  the  mere  suddenness  of  his  appearance  that 
created  this  excitement.  That  mio-ht  have  occasioned 
surprise,  but  not  great  amazement.  He  stood  before 
them  in  the  aspect  of  a  superior  being,  the  glow  not 
yet  gone  from  his  figure  and  face. 

It  seems  that  a  desperate  case  of  demonic  possession 
had  been  brought  to  his  disciples  for  cure,  and  they 
had  failed.  In  many  respects  it  is  the  pendant  of  the 
Syrophenician  woman.  In  both  cases  the  parents 
supplicated  for  children,  —  in  one  case  a  mother  for  a 
daughter,  in  the  other  a  father  for  a  son.  In  both 
instances  Jesus  put  the  applicants  upon  tests  of  faith. 
Both  of  them  manifested  strong  emotion  and  deter- 
mined fiiith,  though  in  ways  characteristically  different. 
A  striking  account  of  the  child's  symptoms  and  suffer- 
ings is  rendered  by  the  father.  He  suddenly  crieth 
out,  he  foameth,  and  gnasheth  with  his  teeth,  and  pineth 
away.  Slowly  does  tlie  spirit  let  go,  and  cease  to  tear 
and  bruise  him.  "I  brought  him  to  thy  disciples,  and 
they  could  not  cure  him. "     With  a  strong  expression 


80  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

of  grief  at  the  impotency  of  their  faith,  Jesus  com- 
mands the  child  to  be  brought  to  him.  Even  in  the 
act  of  coming  a  terrible  spasm  befell  him.  In  his  an- 
guish the  father  cries,  "  If  thou  canst  do  anything,  have 
compassion  on  us,  and  help  us;"  thus,  with  true  pater- 
nal luve,  identifying  himself  with  the  child. 

If  thou  canst  believe^  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that 
believeth. 

With  an  outburst  of  intense  desire,  and  suffused  with 
tears,  the  father  says,  "  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou 
mine  unbelief"  This  is  true  nature,  not  invention. 
It  was  that  violence  which  takes  the  kin<»:dom  of  heaven 
by  force.  With  far  more  solemnity  and  with  more 
circumstance  of  command  than  usual,  Jesus  said.  Thou 
dumb  and  deaf  spirii,  I  charge  thee  come  out  of  him,  and 
enter  no  more  into  him.  He  thus  opened  the  door  of 
cure,  and  shut  it  again  against  all  re-entrance. 

The  scene  was  impressive  to  the  last  degree,  and 
piofoundly  affected  all  that  witnessed  it.  Even  the 
Scribes,  who  had  been  cavilling  with  the  disciples  over 
their  failure,  seem  not  to  have  opened  their  lips.  Even 
more  important,  though  less  striking  to  the  senses,  was 
the  scene  and  disclosure  which  took  place  when  after- 
wards the  disciples  came  to  him  privately  and  asked, 
"  Why  could  not  we  cast  him  out  ?  "  Jesus,  in  his 
reply,  opens  in  a  remarkable  manner  his  view  of  the 
hidden  power  of  the  human  soul  to  control  physical 
things.  There  can  be  no  just  doubt  that  Jesus  taught 
that  there  is  a  higher  power  in  the  human  soul  than 
men  know  of;  that  this  power  is  natural  and  normal, 
to  be  sought  by  appropriate  methods,  like  an}^  other ; 
that  the  soul  is  created  to  develop  its  highest  force 
under  the  direct  stimulus  of  the  Divine   Spirit ;  that 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  81 

men  can  reach  np  into  that  sphere  where  their  faculties 
will  develop  these  hidden  forces  ;  that,  if  this  higher 
life  is  not  reached,  it  is  man's  own  fault. 

Whatever  shade  of  meaning  may  be  attached  to  the 
term  "  faith  "  in  the  apostoHc  period,  it  seems  plain 
that  by  that  term  Jesus  designated  an  intensive  enthu- 
siasm of  moral  conviction  and  will.  It  was  not  simply 
a  sfide,  it  was  an  imperative  force.  One  wha  atten- 
tively considers  the  various  instances  in  which  Jesus 
stirred  up  the  souls  of  men  to  faith  as  the  condition  of 
bestowing  upon  them  his  blessings  can  hardly  avoid 
this  conviction.  "•  Why  could  not  we  cast  him  out  ?  " 
"  Because  of  your  unbelief :  for  verily  I  say  unto  you, 
If  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  ye  shall 
say  unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence  to  yonder 
place,  and  it  shall  remove ;  and  nothing  shall  be  im- 
possible to  you.  Howbeit  this  kind  goeth  not  out  but 
by  prayer  and  fasting."  (Matt.  xvii.  20,  21.)  "  This 
kind  "  demanded  faith  that  had  power ;  the  faith  that 
enlarges  the  scope  of  human  will  and  the  sphere  of  its 
faculties  ;  the  faith  that  opens  the  soul  to  the  Divine 
influence,  exalts,  inspires,  reinforces  by  such  a  union, 
so  that  one  may  use,  so  to  speak,  the  Divine  force  in  a 
limited  sphere,  as  in  ordinary  moods  men  use  natural 
forces  or  laws. 

Returning  to  Capernaum  through  Galilee,  Jesus 
maintains  a  strict  reserve.  We  no  longer  behold 
crowds,  nor  listen  to  discourses,  nor  witness  that  pro- 
fusion of  medical  miracles  which  for  months  had  made 
Lower  Galilee  avast  hospital,  and  his  life  like  the  daily 
rounds  of  a  physician.  He  goes  little  abroad.  He 
lives  in  seclusion  with  his  disciples,  and  broods  them  as 
a  hen  gathers  her  chickens  under  her  wing.     Yet  in 

VOL.  II.  — 6 


82  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

this  hidden  quiet  —  for  "he  would  not  that  any  man 
should  know"  of  his  return  to  Capernaum  from  Upper 
Gahlee  —  Jesus  was  waging  a  conlhct  as  momentous  as 
any  which  engaged  his  heart  until  his  last  great  vic- 
torious defeat,  llis  kingdom  was  not  to  be  established 
by  miracles.  It  dwelt  in  the  hearts  of  men.  In  that 
invisible  sphere  where  thoughts  spring,  where  feelings 
and  motives  take  their  rise,  he  was  to  lay  its  course. 

As  his  own  earthly  life  was  now  soon  to  close,  what 
had  he  accomplished  ?  He  had  stirred  the  community 
profoundly ;  but  as  a  sea  smooths  its  waves  when  the 
wind  dies,  so  would  the  currents  of  life  flow  on  their 
way  as  soon  as  he  had  gone.  He  had  uttered  pro- 
found truths,  but  they  were  unwritten,  and  lived  only 
m  men's  memories.  His  death,  the  supreme  expres- 
sion of  his  life,  Avoidd  be  fruitless  unless  it  should  be 
interpreted  by  a  living  sympathy  to  mean  universal 
love,  —  love,  not  receiving  but  giving,  serving,  sacri- 
ficing. To  prepare  men  to  be  witnesses  for  him 
required  something  more  than  that  they  should  be 
spectators  of  his  outward  life  and  glorious  infamy. 
They  must  come  into  sympathy  with  his  very  nature. 
All  the  false  lights  kindled  by  selfishness  must  be  put 
out,  and  tlie  soul  reillumined  by  the  glow  of  Divine 
love. 

The  few  incidents  which  come  to  the  surface  from 
out  these  depths  of  retirement  will  plainly  enough 
show  the  earnestness  of  Jesus  to  inspire  sympathy  and 
confidence  in  himself,  a  spiritual  view  of  his  kingdom, 
and  the  elements  of  that  faith  which  was  to  carr}^  his 
followers  through  the  darkness  to  the  light  beyond, 
and  then  make  them  torch-bearers  of  truth  to  all  the 
world. 


..-^■^Tsetio, 


1)KN AKirs.  — Matt.  2j     It. 

Coins  Mlntioned  in  the  Go^i-els. 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  83 

The  Evangelists  record  the  wonder  inspired  by  his 
teaching  in  private,  and  the  kind  of  instruction. 

Let  these  mijings  sink  doivn  into  your  ears :  for  the  Son 
of  Man  shail  be  I)et rayed  into  the  hands  of  men,  and  they 
shall  kill  him  ;  and  after  that  he  is  killed,  he  shall  rise  the 
third  day. 

The  artless  Evangelists  recall  the  pitiable  confusion 
into  which  such  words  threw  the  disciples.  Not  one 
of  them,  not  even  John,  sprang  to  meet  the  meaning 
with  a  spark  of  spiritual  intelligence.  They  floundered 
in  sorrow  and  mystery.  Their  dulness  made  them 
ashamed.  ''  They  understood  not  that  saying,  and 
they  were  afraid  to  ask  him." 

A  striking  incident  occurred  at  Capernaum  during 
this  his  last  stay  there.  A  tax-collector  inquires  of 
Peter  whether  his  master  paid  tribute.  Coming  into 
the  house,  Jesus,  aware  that  Peter  had  replied  affirma- 
tively, inquires  whether  kings  take  tribute  of  their 
own  subjects,  or  of  conquered  people.  Of  foreigners, 
of  course.  Then  I  and  mine,  being  above  all  earthly 
rulers,  should  go  free.  He  thus  intensifies  in  his  dis- 
ciples the  assertion  of  his  own  royalty.  But  to  those 
outside,  this  claim  would  be  worse  than  meaningless  ; 
and  so  he  commanded  Peter,  who  as  a  fisherman 
would  feel  the  force  of  such  a  miracle,  to  cast  his  hook 
into  the  lake,  and  in  the  mouth  of  the  first  fish  taken 
there  should  be  found  the  money  required  for  the 
tribute.  This  miracle,  to  us,  who  have  no  need  of  it, 
may  seem  as  medicine  does  to  a  well  man.  But  it  was 
wisely  adapted  to  keep  alive  in  the  hearts  of  his  dis- 
ciples a  sense  of  his  Divine  power.  Compared  with 
the  grandeur  of  place  and  the  magnificence  of  the  phe- 
nomena, the  transfiguration  seems  far  more  noble  than 


84  LIGHT   TRIUMPHANT. 

this  numismatic  miracle  of  the  fish.  But  it  is  doubtful 
whether  upon  yet  rude-niiiided  fishermen  that  moun- 
tain scene  was  as  convincing:  as  one  wrouii-ht  within 
the  familiar  bounds  of  their  homely  occupation.  An 
oak  or  gigantic  CaHfornian  tree  is  more  impressive 
than  grass ;  and  yet  a  miracle  that  should  cause  grnss 
to  spring  up  in  the  wilderness  would  come  quite  as 
near  home  to  a  herdsman's  heart  as  the  upspringing  of 
a  grove  of  oaks  or  a  forest  of  pines. 

The  seeming  partiality  shown  in  selecting  Peter, 
James,  and  John  seems  to  have  developed  among  the 
disciples  ambition  and  jealousy.  The  question  of  their 
relative  merits  came  up  among  themselves.  They 
could  not  banish  the  idea  of  a  new  kino^dom  and  of 
secular  glory.  The  most  explicit  and  solemn  assevera- 
tions that  the  Messiah  must  suffer  and  die  could  not 
root  out  the  deep-seated  Jewisli  expectation  of  an 
earthly  monarchy.  As  they  walked,  on  one  occasion, 
in  or  near  Capernaum,  this  was  the  topic  of  discourse, 
and  the  point  reasoned  and  soon  disputed  among  them 
was  who  should  be  the  greatest!  After  such  long  in- 
timacy and  teaching,  was  this  all  that  tlie  personal 
presence  of  such  a  friend  as  Jesus  could  jiroduce? 
What  soil  must  that  be  on  which  such  seed  yielded 
only  these  fruits?  Why  not  dispossess  them  and 
choose  others  ? 

Instead  of  this  he  announces  to  them  a  principle  of 
conduct  which  cuts  off  selfish  ambition  by  the  roots, — 
a  principle  wliich  the  workl  is  slow  to  learn.  It  will 
never  come  to  its  true  strength  until  it  does  learn, — 
If  anu  man  desire  to  be  fir-st,  the  same  shall  be  last  of  alU 
and  servant  of  all.  With  the  gentleness  of  a  mother,  he 
took  a  young  child  (blessed  be  the  mother  whose  child 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  85 

was  choseu,  and  blessed  be  the  child  !)  for  his  text. 
The  action  is  charming.  "Jesus  called  a  little  child 
unto  him."  That  was  a  true  sweetness  that  could 
draw  a  child  to  a  stranger's  call.  The  several  Evange- 
lists set  forth  tiie  fond  handling  of  children  by  Jesus. 
Matthew  says,  "he  called  a  little  child  unto  him;" 
Mark  says,  "  when  he  had  taken  hini  in  his  arms; "  and 
Luke,  that  he  "  set  him  by  him  "  in  the  crowd.  It  was 
a  call,  a  caress,  and  a  fond  seating  of  the  child  by  his 
side.  The  child,  too,  must  have  looked  up  confidingly; 
for,  had  he  proved  pert  and  intractable,  Jesus  could 
never  have  said.  Except  ye  he  converted,  and  become  as  lit- 
tle children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  Jcingdom  of  heaven. 
Mark  gives  to  the  scene  another  saying :  Whosoever 
shall  receive  one  of  such  children,  in  my  name,  receiveth  me  ; 
and  whosoever  shall  receive  me,  receiveth  not  me,  hut  him  that 
sent  me.  Luke  adds.  For  he  that  is  least  among  you  all,  the 
same  shall  he  great. 

At  once  he  thus  interprets  the  highest  type  of  man- 
hood and  the  real  nature  of  the  Messiah.  In  order  to 
understand  the  moral  greatness  of  Christ  as  contradis- 
tinojuished  from  worldlv  o-reatness,  one  must  cast  out 
the  royal  and  warlike  notions  which  have  fashioned 
manhood,  and  bring  in  the  mother  qualities,  —  care, 
patience,  gentleness,  burden-bearing,  suffering,  when 
needful  for  others.  This  is  the  absolute  notion  of  God. 
Jesus,  as  Messiah,  developed  it.  He  came  not  to  seek 
his  own  wealth,  but  that  of  others  ;  not  to  be  a  lord, 
but  a  love-servant ;  not  to  control  by  authority,  but  by 
the  intrinsic  influence  exerted  by  one  who  calls  forth 
disinterested  veneration.  To  have  all  excellence,  and 
to  use  its  whole  force  in  the  production  of  a  wise  hap- 
piness, is  to  be  God. 


86  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

It  was  self-seeking  ambition,  the  blindness  which  all 
selfishness  produces,  which  made  it  impossible  for  the 
disciples  to  understand  the  true  Messiah.  When  their 
own  natures  had  been  fired  by  the  Holy  Spirit  at  the 
Pentecost,  and  exalted  into  an  heroic  state,  then  the 
scales  fell  from  their  eyes,  and  through  their  hearts 
they  interpreted  that  which  by  their  reason  they  never 
could  compass. 

In  connection  with  this  dispute  of  ambition,  another 
striking  incident  occurred.  The  disciples,  sent  out  to 
teach,  naturally  copied  the  manners  of  tlie  religious 
teachers  of  their  nation,  took  on  the  airs  of  author- 
ity, and  treated  those  who  differed  from  them  with 
severity.  It  was  John  who  reported,  "  Master,  we  saw 
one  casting  out  devils  in  thy  name,  and  he  followeth 
not  us ;  and  we  forbade  him,  because  he  followeth  not 
us."  Jesus  teaches  them,  on  the  contrary,  the  great 
truth  of  toleration  and  love.  Let  ever}^  man  work 
unhindered  who  is  aiming  in  the  right  direction,  how- 
ever imperfectly  he  may  laljor.  More  and  more,  men 
will  work  toward  the  pure  and  the  true  who  have  in 
them  the  spiritual  leaven,  if  they  be  not  rudely  dealt 
with,  and  their  defensory  passions  excited.  As  man 
develops,  and  society  perfects  its  methods,  authority 
will  grow  less  in  powder,  and  influence  more.  For  au- 
thority is  next  of  kin  to  force,  and  is  in  league  with  it. 
Influence  is  an  attraction  of  nature,  and  stands  in  the 
reality  of  things,  and  easily  allies  itself  to  truth  on  the 
one  side  and  liberty  on  the  other. 

Jesus  then  distinctly  placed  himself  as  the  centre  of 
all  moral  development.  Afterward  he  declared  that 
men  were  related  to  him  for  spiritual  life  in  the  same 
way  as  the  branches  of  a  vine  are  to  the  central  stem. 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  87 

The  affinities  of  Divine  love  are  such  that  all  who  are 
in  sympathy  with  him  become  a  part  of  his  life.  The 
slio-htest  kindness  done  to  his  friends  is  done  to  him. 
Love  needs  no  explanation  of  this  feeling;  fiivors  to 
our  children  and  to  those  tenderly  loved  come  to  us  as 
through  a  lens,  magnified.  In  like  manner  an  injury  to 
one  of  his  little  ones  will  be  a  stroke  upon  the  Saviour's 
heart.  Jesus  then  predicts  the  sufferings  incident  to 
those  who  follow  him,  intensifies  the  need  of  rising 
into  spiritual  sympathy  with  him  by  the  sacrifice  of  all 
those  carnal  feelings,  pride,  vanity,  avarice,  ambition, 
which  had  already  begun  to  show  their  workings  in 
his  disciples.  The  hand,  the  foot,  and  the  eye  are 
the  three  instruments  most  used.  As  they  must  be  cut 
oft'  and  plucked  out  if  necessary  to  save  bodily  life, 
so  the  master  passions  of  the  soul,  which  prevail  in 
society,  must  be  subdued  to  love  and  gentleness.  John 
afterward  learned  this  lesson.  As  yet  he  was  full  of 
untamed  passion. 

In  taking  a  little  child  for  a  text,  Jesus  makes  one 
declaration  which  must  forever  remain  a  treasure  of 
consolation  to  all  who  have  early  lost  their  little  ones. 
TaJce  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones  ;  for  I 
say  unto  you,  That  in  heaven  their  angels  do  always  hehold  the 
face  of  my  Father  tvhich  is  in  heaven.  It  is  not  the  will  of 
your  Father  lohich  is  in  heaven,  that  one  of  these  little  ones 
shoidd  imish.  Whatever  interpretation  be  put  upon 
the  phrase  "  their  angels,"  it  must  signify  that  before 
God  little  children  are  not  forgotten,  but  are  dearly 
loved  and  guarded.  Our  children,  dying,  go  to  a 
larger  love,  a  dearer  home,  than  earth  knows  how  to 
build.  Like  young  birds  hatched  in  the  far  north, 
when  autumn  comes  they  fly  toward  the  south.     The 


88  LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT. 

nest  is  empty  upon  a  leafless  tree,  but  the  nestling  Is 
sinorin":  in  an  all-the-year  sunnner. 

He  lays  down  the  rules  by  which  quarrels  shall  be 
settled  among  brethren,  and  in  that  connection  he 
fives  to  the  whole  company  of  his  disciples  the  pre- 
rogatives which  some  have  claimed  exclusively  for 
Peter.  Whatsoever  ye  shall  hind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in 
heaven  :  and  ichtdsoever  ye  shall  loose  on  earth  shall  l)e  loosed 
in  heaven.  Thus  he  teaches  that  the  judgments  and 
decisions  of  good  men,  when  their  souls  are  in  sym- 
pathy with  God,  will  be  found  to  be  in  harmony  with 
the  Divine  economy,  and  will  "  work  together "  with 
the  nature  of  things  and  with  that  Divine  Providence 
which  uses  them  and  is  founded  on  them. 

Such  teachings  could  not  but  stir  up  a  multitude  of 
questions,  —  among  others,  that  which  Peter  brought 
to  him,  "  Lord,  how  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against 
me,  and  I  forgive  him?  till  seven  times?" 

Until  seventy  times  seven. 

Unforgiven  offences  may  be  counted  ;  but  forgive- 
ness annihilates.  Forgiveness,  like  a  style  upon  a  wax 
tablet,  cancels ;  like  a  sponge,  it  wipes  out  the  writing 
on  a  slate.  Forgiveness  is  not  anger  held  in  suspense  ; 
or  revenge,  like  a  half-tamed  dog,  chained.  It  is  a 
supreme  and  absolute  discharge.  Love,  when  it  for- 
gives, forgets.  It  is  only  selfishness  that  rakes  up  an 
offence  under  ashes,  that  it  may  keep  till  morning  and 
be  kindled  afresh.  Love  is  royal,  for  it  has  learned 
what  only  God  can  teach, /^o/r  to  forgive !  —  not  from 
interest,  or  conciliation,  or  submission,  or  flattery,  but 
because  love  cannot  hold  anger. 

To  stamp  this  most  needed  of  all  lessons  upon  the 
hearts  of  those  who  were  soon  to  be  subject  to  every 


LIGHT  TRIUMPHANT.  89 

indignity  which  can  be  heaped  upon  men,  Jesus  recited 
a  striking  parable  of  a  debtor  released  by  the  king,  his 
master,  upon  earnest  supplication,  but  who  turned 
about  and  seized  a  fellow-servant  indebted  to  him, 
treating  him  with  merciless  severity. 

While  these  teachings  were  moulding  the  dispositions 
of  his  disciples,  they  were  at  the  same  time  throwing 
light  upon  the  character  of  their  Master.  Instead  of 
the  arrogant  Messiah,  come  to  oppress  other  nations 
that  he  might  exalt  the  Jews,  he  was  the  merciful 
Messiah,  come  to  bring  peace  and  good-will  to  men. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

FAREWELL  TO  GALILEE. 

The  summer  was  past.  October  had  come ;  not,  as 
with  us,  full  of  harvests,  and  flush  with  ripeness  of  the 
year,  but  sere  and  fading,  and  with  signs  of  winter. 
The  harvests,  of  grain  and  of  fruits,  beginning  as  early 
as  April,  continued  through  the  season  until  the  end  of 
September,  at  which  period  the  wheat,  the  barley,  the 
pulse,  the  grape,  the  date,  the  fig,  the  olive  had  been 
gathered,  and  the  labor  and  joy  of  harvesting  was 
over.  For  in  Palestine  as  in  other  Oriental  lands,  the 
peasantry  made  the  seasons  of  ingathering  periods  of 
joy.  Men,  women,  and  children  went  together  into  the 
fields.  Except  of  the  very  aged  and  the  sick,  villages 
were  left  empty.  Even  the  cattle,  the  goats,  and  the 
cackling  fowls  were  driven  out  and  followed  the  glean- 
ers, picking  up  food.  All  along  the  plains  and  up  the 
hillsides  the  crowd  was  vocal.  The  shouts  of  laughter, 
songs,  or  choruses  rose  up  in  every  direction.  Thus 
gayety  drove  away  drudger}^,  and  the  harvest-field 
developed  the  joyous  social  life  of  the  country  people. 

But  it  was  not  enough  that  such  spontaneous  glad- 
ness filled  the  land.  Moses  had  ordained  that  the  har- 
vest season  should  close  with  a  grand  national  festival. 
'J'here  was  a  time  in  their  history  when  Israel  sowed  no 
fields  and  reaped  no  harvests.     Their  bread  fell  from 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  91 

heaven  as  the  dew.  They  were  dependent  upon  the 
daily  love  of  Jehovah.  When  they  had  become  pos- 
sessed of  vineyards  and  olive-groves  and  fields  of  grain, 
it  was  fit  that  a  harvest-thanksgiving  should  be  associ- 
ated with  the  memory  of  their  wandering  lives.  The 
third  grand  festival  of  the  year,  that  of  the  Tabernacles, 
was  a  seven-days'  thanksgiving  for  the  fruits  of  the 
field,  as  well  as  a  memorial  of  the  desert  life  of  the 
Jews.  They  were  not  to  dwell  in  houses  during  its 
continuance/  but  in  booths  or  tabernacles  made  with 
'*  branches  of  palm-trees,  boughs  of  thick  trees,  and 
willows  of  the  brook."  It  was  a  national  camp-meet- 
ing. The  first  and  eighth  days  were  to  be  kept  as 
solemn  religious  days.  The  other  six  were  half-festi- 
vals, during  which,  after  certain  sacrifices  and  religious 
services  had  been  performed,  the  time  was  given  up  to 
social  enjoyment.  But  even  the  social  festivities  were 
to  have  their  lessons. 

The  household  was  to  take  in  all  that  served  as  well 
as  the  more  honorable  members  of  the  family, — "  Thou 
and  thy  son,  and  thy  daughter,  and  thy  man-servant, 
and  thy  maid-servant."  Thus,  in  the  hour  of  joy  and 
of  religion,  all  were  raised  to  an  equality.     Nor  were  the 

^  Also  in  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  seventh  month,  when  ye  have  gathered 
in  the  fruit  of  the  land,  ye  shall  keep  a  feast  unto  the  Lord  seven  days:  on 
the  first  day  shall  be  a  sabbath,  and.  on  the  eighth  day  shall  be  a  sabbath. 
And  ye  shall  take  you  on  the  first  day  the  boughs  of  goodly  trees,  branches 
of  palm-trees,  and  the  boughs  of  thick  trees,  and  willows  of  the  brook  ;  and 
ye  shall  rejoice  before  the  Lord  your  God  seven  days.  And  ye  shall  keep 
it  a  feast  unto  the  Lord  seven  days  in  the  year:  it  shall  be  a  statute  forever 
in  your  generation;  ye  shall  celebrate  it  in  the  seventh  month.  Ye  shall 
dwell  in  booths  seven  days;  all  that  are  Israelites  born  shall  dwell  in 
booths;  That  your  generation  may  know  that  I  made  the  children  of  Israel 
to  dwell  in  booths,  Avhen  I  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt:  I  am 
the  Lord  your  God.     Leviticus  xxiii.  39-43. 


92  I'AllKWEI.L    TO    GALTLEt:. 

rites  of  hospitality  and  humanity  to  be  neglected  ;  for, 
in  this  festival  of  universal  joy,  they  were  to  receive 
and  entertain  in  their  several  o-roups  "the  Levite,"  — 
who,  having  no  possessions  of  land,  depended  on  the 
generosity  of  the  people,  —  "the  stranger,  and  the 
fatherless,  and  the  widow,  that  are  within  thy  gates." 

No  one  who  has  witnessed  the  social  excitement 
which  pervades  a  comniunit}^  as  the  Christmas  festival 
or  a  New  England  Thanksgiving  draws  near,  will  be  at 
loss  to  understand  the  feeling  of  the  disciples  as  they 
saw  caravans  arriving  every  hour  froui  the  north  or 
west,  and  the  connnunity  around  them  moving  off  in 
bands  from  hour  to  hour  toward  Jerusalem.  That 
sacred  home  can  never  mean  to  us  what  it  did  to 
devout  Jews.  It  was  a  word  full  of  pictures,  a  sound 
that  evoked  the  most  solemn  and  joyful  emotions.  It 
was  a  mirror  in  which  was  reflected  the  wonderful  his- 
tory of  the  past.  It  was  the  national  talisman  guard- 
ing the  future.  Jerusalem  was  like  a  sea,  and  into  it 
emptied  the  streams  of  people  from  the  north,  from 
the  west,  and  from  the  south,  like  a  river  augmenting 
at  every  league  by  the  accession  of  side  rills  from  town 
and  villacre. 

The  disciples,  too,  longed  to  join  the  march.  Jesus 
did  not  wish  the  publicity,  which  had  become  danger- 
ous and  oppressive.  His  reluctance  was  misinterpreted 
by  his  family.  They  judged  him  by  the  standard  of 
common  life,  without  the  slightest  s^anpathy  with  his 
interior  life  and  purpose.  His  large  and  genial  life, 
his  great-heartedness,  his  incessant  labors  of  humanit}^, 
his  discourse,  which  sounded  all  the  depths  of  spiritual 
truth,  his  radiant  miracles,  shone  upon  their  dark  Jind 
dull  hearts,  "  but  the  darkness  comprehended  it  not." 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  93 

His  very  brethren  meanly  insinuate  to  him  that  he 
was  a  pretender.  A  pretty  Messiah,  hid  away  in  the 
obscure  regions  of  GaHlee,  w^orking  miracles  before  the 
illiterate,  and  preaching  to  the  rabble,  but  uaiwilling  to 
face  the  intelligence  of  Jerusalem,  and  cope  with  the 
educated  scribes.  "  There  is  no  man  that  doeth  any- 
thing in  secret,  and  he  himself  seeketh  to  be  known 
openly.  If  thou  do  these  things,  show  thyself  openly 
to  the  world."  These  taunts  were  not  born  of  their 
own  hearts.  They  had  such  things  thrown  up  to  them 
from  without.  It  was  the  reply  of  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees  to  the  career  of  Jesus,  and  was  reflected  upon 
Jesus  from  their  impatient  and  half- vexed  spirits.  He 
was  in  no  mood  to  argue  or  retort.  To  his  eye  Jeru- 
salem was  overhung  with  clouds.  It  was  a  doomed 
city  in  the  midst  of  a  dissolving  nation.  If  his  breth- 
ren longed  to  witness  a  trial  of  skill  in  the  Temple,  if 
they  were  impatient  to  see  if  he  could  awe  the  strong 
men  of  the  Temple  as  he  had  tlie  peasants  of  Galilee, 
and  control  the  "  gods  of  the  hills"  as  he  had  the  spirits 
of  the  valleys  and  the  sea,  he  himself  had  no  such 
ambition.  "My  time  is  not  yet  come,"  —  but  it  was 
coming !  Slowly,  like  the  far-off  movement  of  clouds, 
the  storm  was  advancing,  and  he  would  be  in  Jeru- 
salem in  full  time  to  meet  it.  When  the  time  should 
come  he  would  not  open  his  mouth  to  defend  himself. 
But  now,  looking  upon  the  unaccomplished  as  if  it 
were  already  fulfilled,  he  declares  that  he  was  perse- 
cutedin  the  cause  of  virtue.  "The  world  cannot  hate 
you,  but  me  it  hateth,  because  I  testify  of  it,  that  the 
works  thereof  are  evil." 

His  brethren  went  forward.     He  yet  lingered.     His 
work  in  Galilee  was  done.     Birds  sinu;  with  full  throat 


94  FAREWELL   TO    GALILEE. 

while  they  build  and  while  they  rear  their  young, 
but  after  that  are  silent  and  linger  some  days,  as  if 
gathering  strength  for  their  migration.  So  Jesus 
lingered  in  Galilee,  though  he  wrought  no  more  by 
hand  or  voice.  But,  amidst  scenes  endeared  to  him 
by  associations  of  childhood  and  of  ripe  manhood,  his 
thoughts  wandered  and  his  heart  was  on  its  way  to 
the  great  city  of  his  sufferings.  "^  And  it  came  to  pass 
when  the  time  was  come  that  he  should  be  received 
up,  he  steadfastly  set  his  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem." 
Such  language  would  seem  to  imply  that  his  disci- 
ples or  others  solicited  him  to  renewed  activity,  but 
that  his  spirit  was  absent ;  his  thoughts  dwelt  afar 
upon  invisible  themes.  Yet  presently  he  aroused 
himself,  and  began  his  journey,  as  it  were  in  secret. 
One  day's  journejqng  w^ould  not  take  them  out  from 
the  familiar  range  of  his  circuits,  and  there  would  be 
no  lack  of  hospitality  at  night.  But  on  the  second 
day  they  would  reach  the  Samaritan  territory,  and  it 
would  be  needful  to  make  provision  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  his  disciples.  He  sent  forward  some  of 
them,  probably  James  and  John,  to  secure  entertain- 
ment. But  when  the  villagers  saw  that  as  a  Jew 
he  was  on  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  all  their  sectarian 
feelings  were  aroused  :  they  would  not  receive  him ; 
whereat  these  zealous  disciples,  inflamed  with  auger, 
would  have  dealt  with  sectarianism  in  a  summary  man- 
ner. "  Wilt  thou  that  we  command  fire  to  come  down 
from  heaven  to  consume  them  ? "  But  such  a  wish 
was  itself  like  a  flame  from  the  pit.  Not  by  violence 
will  men  ever  be  lifted  above  their  imperfections. 
"  The  Son  of  Man  is  not  come  to  destroy  men's  lives, 
but   to   save  them."     There  spake  the   God,  and    re- 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  95 

vealed  the  genius  of  universal  divine  government, 
workino;  from  death  toward  Hfe. 

On  this  final  journey  Jesus  renews  his  labors.  It 
was  fresh  ground.  He  sent  out  seventy  of  his  adher- 
ents with  the  same  charge  before  given  to  his  twelve 
disciples.  How  much  of  the  life  of  Jesus  is  left  un- 
written is  shown  by  our  ignorance  of  such  an  event  as 
this.  He  left  Galilee  in  a  purposely  obscure  manner. 
When  did  the  multitude  gather  from  which  he  chose 
his  seventy  preachers  ?  Who  were  they,  and  how  had 
they  become  fit  for  so  peculiar  a  ministry  ?  It  is  clear 
that  this  journey  which  began  so  silently  and  secretly 
grew  public,  and  finally  blossomed  out  in  full  fragrance. 

Again  popular  enthusiasm  for  him  began  to  rise. 
Many  thronged  to  him  and  volunteered  discipleship. 
To  one  he  made  the  same  reply  as  to  the  scribe  on  the 
shores  of  Genesareth.  The  most  volatile  and  wander- 
ing of  birds  have  at  least  a  nest,  the  most  hated  and 
hunted  of  vermin  has  a  home.  It  is  the  Saviour  of  the 
world  that  hath  no  spot  on  it  to  call  his  own.  Is  it  the 
march  of  the  homeless,  the  hated,  the  doomed,  that 
thou  wouldst  join  ? 

There  came  lanother,  of  such  fitness  that  Jesus  said 
to  him,  "  Follow  me."  Fit,  but  not  yet  wholly  willing 
Not  willing  to  refuse  nor  to  accept,  he  shielded  him- 
self by  the  claims  of  paternal  affection.  ''  Suffer  me 
first  to  go  and  bury  my  father."  There  could  be  no 
nobler  plea,  nor  any  spirit  so  little  likely  to  inspire 
filial  ingratitude  as  Christ's.  But  Jesus  saw  that  it  was 
an  attempt  to  make  a  duty  the  means  of  avoiding  a 
higher  duty.  It  is  by  this  unconscious  superiority, 
which  overrules  all  lower  relations  in  demanding  per- 
sonal allegiance  to  himself,  that  the  conscious  divinity 


96  FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE. 

of  Jesus  shone  out.  This  man's  moral  sense  had  been 
spiritually  enlightened.  He  had  acknowledged  Christ 
to  himself  in  inward  sentiment  and  conviction.  He 
shrank  from  the  outward  actions  which  true  f^^ith  in- 
evitably inspires.  As  an  ideal  he  accepted  Christ's 
kingdom,  but  there  he  paused  and  shrank  back.  "  No 
man  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking 
back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God."  Nothing  noble 
in  life  is  ever  attained  by  languid  zeal.  The  kingdom 
of  heaven  must  suffer  violence.  Whether  in  art,  in 
knowledge,  in  refinement,  but,  more  eminently  than 
all,  in  spiritual  power,  no  man  can  be  victorious  who 
does  not  put  forth  his  best  force,  and  with  unremitting 
persistence.  A  soul  that  vibrates  between  things  high 
and  low,  good  and  evil,  spiritual  and  secular,  like  a 
pendulum,  will  be  forever  travelling  without  making 
any  progress. 

At  the  entrance  of  a  village  ten  lepers  met  him. 
The}'^  stood  apart,  and  from  f;ir  off  cried  to  Jesus  for 
relief.  When  a  leper  was  healed,  before  he  could  have 
free  access  again  to  society,  Moses  required  that  he 
should  be  inspected  by  a  priest  and  certified  of  his  cure. 
When,  therefore,  Jesus  connnanded  these  lepers  to  go 
and  show  themselves  to  the  priests,  they  were  already 
healed,  and  as  they  went,  they  perceived  it.  Nine 
Jews,  it  is  probable,  and  one  Samaritan,  made  up  the 
wretched  company,  —  for  in  extreme  misery  even  sec- 
tarianism disappears,  and  Jews  and  Samaritans  could 
mingle  together  if  only  they  had  the  leprosy.  Of  the 
nine  we  hear  nothing.  The  Samaritan,  seemingly  the 
least  likely  one  of  all,  touched  with  profound  gratitude, 
followed  his  feelings  and  turned  back  to  give  thanks  to 
his  benefactor. 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  97 

Mere  literal  obedience  to  a  command  may  be  re- 
buked by  the  inspiration  of  a  higher  duty.  Jesus 
blessed  a  gratitude  which  overpowered  everything 
else,  which  forgot  everything  but  to  return  and  em- 
brace his  feet  with  love  and  reverence.  ''  x\rise,  go 
thy  way,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole."  But  of 
the  rest,  who  were  punctiliously  fulfilling  his  orders, 
he  said,  "  Were  there  not  ten  cleansed  ?  Where  are 
the  nine  ?  "  He  who  follows  the  inspiration  of  love 
in  reverence,  obeys  even  in  disobeying,  for  "  love  is 
the  fulfilling  of  the  law."  He  who  obeys  without 
feeling,  breaks  the  command  while  obeying  it. 

The  spiritual  energy  of  Jesus,  subject  to  develop- 
ment, shone  "■  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect 
day."  There  shot  out  from  him  rays  of  light  and 
power,  as  flashes  of  lightning  shoot  from  the  highly 
charo;ed  clouds  of  summer.  He  seemed  the  centre  of 
an  atmosphere  whose  orb  and  intensity  steadily  in- 
creased. From  this  time  forth  Jesus  grew  more  loving 
and  terrible. 

There  is  about  him  at  once  the  sense  of  presence 
and  of  remoteness,  of  familiarity  and  of  lofty  reserve, 
of  caressing  tenderness  and  of  judicial  sternness.  Thus 
the  sun  dwelling  at  an  immense  distance  is  present 
everywhere,  and,  flooding  the  earth,  unbosoms  itself  to 
every  weak  and  homely  thing,  as  well  as  to  mountains 
and  palaces,  and  gives  beauty  out  of  itself  to  every 
leaf  and  flower  which  it  touches. 

All  Jerusalem  was  aglow.  The  pilgrims  from  the 
North  brought  with  them  the  wonderful  stories  which 
agitated  Galilee,  and  thej^  brought  also  the  controver- 
sies which  these  deeds  and  discourses  had  excited. 
But  the  public  sentiment  of  Jerusaleni  was  not  as  free 


98  FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE. 

as  around  the  Sea  of  Genesareth,  It  was  not  prudent 
to  speak  openly.  Men  whispered.  They  disputed  in 
corners  and  in  side  gatherings.  The  great  city  sim- 
mered and  bubbled  with  the  heat.  There  was  no  ques- 
tion as  to  the  power  of  this  Galilean,  his  wisdom,  his 
miracles,  or  his  personal  purity.  The  dispute  con- 
cerned his  public  relations.  Was  his  influence  patriotic 
and  religiously  good  ?  One  part  said,  "  He  is  a  good 
man  :'"  but  with  equal  intensity  others,- leaning  to  the 
side  of  the  scribes,  repeated  their  arguments,  "  He 
deceiveth  the  people."  He  was  to  the  regular  author- 
ities an  agitator,  a  misleader,  whose  loose  doctrine  and 
lax  practice  would  destroy  both  faith  and  morality  ! 

His  life  must  have  been  reviewed,  his  deeds  attacked 
and  defended,  one  and  another  of  his  miracles  can- 
vassed. There  is  a  hint  in  the  narrative  that  the  heal- 
ing on  the  Sabbath  day,  on  a  former  visit  to  Jerusalem, 
of  the  infirm  man  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  had  been 
specially  designated  as  an  instance  of  his  contempt  for 
the  religious  usages  of  the  nation.  And  so  this  sup- 
pressed excitement  came  and  went  like  coals  in  ashes. 
But  no  one  cared  to  kindle  an  open  controversy.  The 
rulers  were  known  to  be  opposed  to  Jesus.  Men  were 
afraid  to  risk  their  disfavor.  There  was  little  freedom 
of  conscience.  Even  the  friends  of  Jesus  had  not  the 
courage  boldly  to  defend  his  doctrine  and  his  practice. 
It  was  Jesus  himself  Avho  raked  the  ashes  from  this 
bed  of  coals,  and  with  free  and  bold  speech  blew  them 
to  a  blaze.  In  "  the  midst  of  the  feast  "  he  appeared. 
If  he  had  hidden  himself  for  weeks  past,  and  came  up 
from  Galilee  "  as  it  were  in  secret,"  he  now  threw  ofl' 
all  reserve,  and  moved  with  calm  boldness  upon  the 
path  that  led  to  death. 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  99 

In  the  great  cathedral-like  sfoa,  or  porch  of  Herod, 
on  the  south  side  of  the  Temple  sj^stem,  where  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  men  gathered  during  the  feast 
for  discourse,  Jesus  appeared,  and  began  a  public  dis- 
course. Around  him  were  the  chief  men  of  his  nation. 
He  stood  in  the  centre  of  Jewish  faith  and  civility.  If 
it  was  here  that  Jesus  now  began  to  discourse,  then 
his  audience  would  be  made  up  of  scribes,  Pharisees, 
Sadducees,  and  many  of  the  more  intelligent  of  the 
common  people.  His  address  was  not  likely  to  be 
such  as  the  Rabbis  gave  in  the  synagogues,  —  a  dust- 
cloud  of  ineffable  trifles,  the  metaphysics  of  trivial 
punctilios,  without  value  or  refreshment  for  the  heart. 
When  Jesus  expounded  the  Scriptures,  no  wonder  that 
"  the  Jews  marvelled "  !  But  these  learned  triflers 
were  not  so  much  affected  by  the  spiritual  beauty  and 
depth  of  his  teaching  as  by  the  fact  that  an  unedu- 
cated man  could  teach  at  all.  "  How  knoweth  this 
man  letters  [religious  literature],  having  never 
learned  ?  "  Certainly  Jesus  had  not  been  educated  in 
the  school  of  the  Rabbi !  The  Jewish  schoolmen  would 
not  accept  the  best  wheat  unless  it  grew  upon  the  right 
kind  of  straw.  Just  such  slaves  of  routine  and  regu- 
larity still  exist ;  the  poorest  of  fruit  growing  upon  the 
grafted  tree  is  by  them  accounted  better  than  the  no- 
blest fruit  growing  upon  its  OAvn  natural  root.  But  he 
who  can  speak  important  truth  is  educated.  Education 
is  but  the  pickaxe  which  digs  out  the  gold,  and  the 
gold  cares  not  when  once  coined  by  what  instrument 
it  came  to  the  light.  But  in  every  age  spiritual  pedan- 
try demands  that  gold  should  be  stamped  with  the 
image  and  superscription  of  a  school  or  a  sect,  or  else 
be  accounted  base  metal.     Jesus  was  now  in  conflict 


TOO  FMir.WEf.L    TO    CM  J  LEE. 

with  the  selfishness  of  religious  philosophy,  and  thus 
met  it  :  1  am  educated,  God  is  my  teacher.  He  who 
is  in  harmony  with  God  will  liave  direct  inspiration. 
"  11  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine,  wiiether  it  be  of  God."  1  am  not  magnify- 
ing mysell".  or  striving  to  build  a  party,  I  am  seeking 
his  glory  that  sent  me.  You.  do  not  perceive  my  spirit 
nor  accept  my  mission,  because  you  are  without  spirit- 
ual perceptions.  Ye  do  not  even  keep  the  law  of 
Moses  according  to  its  spirit.  Because  I  teach  you  the 
truth  oi"  God  lar  more  clearly  than  it  was  revealed  of 
old,  ye  go  about  to  kill  me. 

This  charge  surprised  his  hearers,  many  of  whom 
knew  nothing  of  the  scenes  which  occurred  after  the 
healing  of  the  infirm  man  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda. 
The  scribes  kept  silence,  but  the  people  thought  that 
a  man  must  be  crazy  to  imagine  that  his  life  w\as 
sought,  inasmuch  as  he  stood  teachino^  without  hin- 
drance  in  the  most  public  place  in  Jerusalem.  The 
discourse  then  takes  a  wider  range,  of  which  only 
hints  appear  in  the  Evangelist.  The  keeping  of  the 
Sabbath  is  introduced  ;  the  inconsistency  of  the  Phari- 
sees sharply  pointed  out,  wdio  would  circumcise  a  child 
on  the  Sabbath,  but  would  not  permit  a  sick  man  to  be 
healed.  Thus  tlie  letter  was  placed  higher  than  the 
spirit  of  the  law. 

We  must  not  imagine  a  compact  audience,  and  a 
consecutive  discourse  such  as  Demosthenes  would  have 
pronoimced  in  Athens.  Far  more  nearly  the  scene 
resembled  a  dialogue  of  Socrates  WMth  one  and  another 
who  chanced  to  question  him.  The  crowd  came  and 
went.  Some  on  the  outskirts  were  blaming  him,  an- 
other circle  would  be  taking  his  part,  others  stood  in 


i<AKt:\VKLL    TO    OAULEE.  101 

perplexity  between  their  reverence  for  forms  which 
Jesus  disregarded,  and  their  sense  of  the  truth  which 
touched  their  conscience.  Another  party  coming-  in 
and  knowing  the  deadly  counsel  of  the  Pharisees,  were 
.'innoyed  that  Jesus  dared  to  stand  in  public,  as  it  were 
defying  tlieui.  Is  not  this  he  whom  they  seek  to  kill  ? 
But  see,  he  speaketh  boldly,  and  they  say  nothing  to 
him.  This  dangerous  silence  of  the  scribes  led  some 
to  imagine  that  possibly  some  compromise  had  been 
made.  It  was  a  corrupt  time.  Bargain  and  sale  was 
the  order  of  the  day.  Are  the  rulers  convinced  that 
this  is  the  very  Messiah  ?  To  which  some  sharp 
fellow  replies,  When  Messiah  appears  no  one  will 
know  whence  he  comes,  he  will  descend  into  our  midst 
in  glory.  This  man?  —  why  everyone  knows  where 
he  came  from.  He  is  a  Galilean  !  At  this  saying 
Jesus,  lifting  his  voice  above  the  turmoil  of  murmuring 
disputants,  who  were  setting  aside  his  claims  on  pitiful 
grounds  of  geography  and  of  imaginary  legends  as  to 
the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  cried,  Ye  hoih  hionj  me, 
and  f/e  know  whence  I  am;  as  if  he  had  said,  "Yes,  I 
am  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ;  but  not  the  less  am  I  inspired 
of  God."  /  am  not  come  of  myself,  hut  he  that  sent  me  is 
whom  ye  hiov)  not.  But  I  Jcnoiv  him:  for  I  am  from  him, 
and  he  hath  sent  me. 

There  was  something  in  this  reply  more  than  the 
letter  reveals  to  us,  which  aroused  the  anger  of  a  por- 
tion of  the  crowd.  For  the  fiery  fanaticism  of  the 
Judcean  Jew  broke  out  into  threats,  and  the  crowd 
surged  back  and  forth,  as  if  gathering  impetus  for  a 
rush.  Yet  the  movement  failed.  The  time  had  not 
come.     "No  man  laid  hands  on  him." 

But   another  portion   of  the   crowd,   probablj'   from 


102  FAREWELL  TO  GALILEE. 

Galilee,  were  far  differently  affected.  This  very  vio- 
lence of  their  fellows  excited  their  sympathy.  When 
the  Anointed  cometh,  will  he  do  more  miracles  than 
these  which  this  man  hath  done  ?  The  scribes  and 
Pharisees  had  seen  his  dangerous  influence  over  the 
people  in  Galilee.  They  promptly  met  this  rising  en- 
thusiasm by  sending  the  officers  of  the  Sanhedrim 
to  arrest  Jesus.  It  was  better,  if  possible,  to  sweep 
him  away  by  a  sudden  outburst  of  popular  fanaticism. 
But  if  that  failed  then  the  law  must  be  emplo^^ed. 

The  officers  went  forth  to  arrest  a  culprit,  and  found 
themselves  in  the  presence  of  an  ineffable  personage 
whose  dignity  overawed  them  and  whose  benignity 
charmed  them.  With  a  pitying  sadness  Jesus  said  to 
them.  Yet  a  little  tvhile  am  I  uitli  you.,  and  then  I  go  unto 
him  that  sent  me.  Ye  shall  seek  me,  and  not  find  me;  and 
vjhere  I  am,  thither  f/e  cannot  come.  This  is  the  loftiest 
language  of  liberty  and  sovereignty.  He  was  the  most 
helpless  and  undefended  num  in  Jerusalem,  with  over- 
whelming odds  against  him.  Yet  he  sinks  the  coarse 
agency  of  man,  and  represents  the  unfolding  drama 
as  proceeding  from  his  own  volition.  The  popular  en- 
thusiasm that  rolled  back  the  anger  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
the  delay  of  their  unripe  counsels  that  seemed  to  be 
the  reasons  of  his  safety,  he  describes  simply  as  the  re- 
sults of  his  purpose.  "  A  little  while  I  am  with  you!  " 
The  arrest,  the  mockery  of  a  trial,  the  buffet,  the  cross, 
the  spear,  the  sepulchre,  were  mere  inferior  accidents, 
as  it  were,  of  his  history.  These  were  but  the  methods, 
the  motive-power  was  his  own  sovereign  will.  Then  I 
go  unto  him  that  sent  me.  As  Jesus  drew  near  to  the 
close  of  his  earthly  experience,  he  spoke  more  and 
more  in  the  language  of  one  who  saw  all  things  in  their 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  103 

large  spiritual  liberty,  and  knew  that  the  visible  was,  as 
it  were,  only  the  gross  shadow  of  the  invisible  reality, 
distorted  by  the  rude  surfaces  upon  w^iicli  it  fell.  The 
incessant  play  of  double  meanings,  of  paradox,  the 
vagueness  and  disconnection  often  seen,  are  natural  to 
one  who  attempts  to  express  in  the  language  of  the 
fiesli  thoughts  that  are  born  in  the  liberty  of  the  in- 
visible and  the  ineffable.  Language  which  would  dis- 
guise the  truth  to  a  spirit,  may  serve  to  reveal  some 
glimpses  of  it  to  a  man.  The  transparent  moisture 
which  glows  in  the  atmosphere,  before  it  can  refresh 
the  soil  must  lose  its  brightness  and  fall  down  from 
out  of  dark  clouds. 

But  we  are  not  to  conceive  of  Jesus  as  in  the  Temple 
like  a  pure  marble  statue  standing  in  its  own  beauty, 
without  sympathy  with  those  that  throng  its  base. 
The  scenes  that  were  taking  place  could  not  be  without 
interest  to  him,  if  for  no  other  reason  because  they 
filled  the  multitude  with  so  much  enjoyment.  For  the 
Feast  of  the  Tabernacle  was  above  all  others  a  festival 
of  joy.  When  the  morning  broke,  on  each  day  of  the 
seven,  a  band  of  priests  went  down  to  the  bank  of 
Siloam  and  brought  up  thence  golden  pitchers  full  of 
water.  Ascending  to  the  upper  portions  of  the  Temple, 
amidst  crowds  of  men  waving  palm  branches,  the 
priests  poured  the  water  into  perforated  stone  basins 
adjoining  the  altar,  while  other  priests  meeting  them 
poured  out  wine  in  like  manner.  During  this  cere- 
mony the  grand  Hallel  was  chanted  (Psalms  cxiii.- 
cxviii).  The  sacrifices  were  offered  every  day,  with 
great  state  and  peculiar  solemnity ;  and  yet  such  was 
the  atmosphere  of  social  gladness  surrounding  all  these 
services  that  the  Rabbis  were  accustomed  to  say,  "  He 


104  FAREWELL    TO   GAT.JT.EK. 

who  has  not  seen  these  festivities  i^nows  not  what 
juhilee  is."  It  could  not  be  that  Jesus,  who  had  all 
his  life  long  shown  a  warm  sympathy  with  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  his  people,  and  who  from  year 
to  year  had  ascended  to  the  great  national  festivals, 
should  all  at  once  walk  among  these  scenes  of  gladness 
like  a  mourner  or  an  absent-minded  reverist.  From 
day  to  day  he  doubtless  took  part  in  the  services.  It 
was  out  of  such  intercourse  that  his  discourses  sprang. 
It  w;is  such  universal  sympathy  with  the  people  that 
drew  the  people  to  him  in  turn  with  such  warm  sym- 
pathy. He  was  one  of  them,  —  presenting  to  their  eyes 
not  another  and  different  being  from  themselves,  but 
their  own  very  selves  carried  up  into  that  high  and 
perfect  form  which  in  their  better,  purer  moods  every 
one  wished  to  attain ;  "  one  tempted  in  all  points  like 
as  we  are,  and  yet  without  sin  !  " 

This  festival  lasted  seven  days ;  but  an  eighth  was 
added,  as  a  day  of  holy  convocation.  It  was  on  this 
"  last  day,  the  great  day  of  the  feast,"  that  Jesus  cried 
out,  If  awj  man  iJiirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink.  He 
that  I)elicvcih  on  me,  as  the  scripture  hath  said,  out  of  his 
Jjcllfj  shall  flow  rivers  of  living  tvater.  There  is  nothing  in 
these  words  to  an  ordinary  apprehension  which  should 
produce  sudden  emotion. 

It  is  not  likelv  that  the  Jews  in  this  single  case 
would  have  perceived  the  deep  meaning  of  such  words, 
unless  they  had  been  uttered  in  a  manner  so  impres- 
sive, and  by  one  who  for  the  moment  assumed  such  a 
grandeur  of  appearance  (not  unlike,  perhaps,  his  aspect 
upon  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration)  as  to  overawe  his 
hearers  with  his  divine  dignity.  For  many  cried  out, 
"  Of  a  truth  this  is  tlie  Prophet."     Others,  more  defi- 


FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE.  105 

nite  and  courageous,  declared,  "This  is  the  Christ,"  the 
anointed  Messiah !  But  the  Southern  Jews  could  not 
pay  such  honor  to  a  Gahlean  Jew.  "  Shall  Christ  come 
out  of  Galilee?"  And  the  conflict  waxed  warm,  and 
broke  out  into  an  attempt  at  violence  ;  for  the  fanati- 
cism of  the  Southern  Jews  was  like  tinder,  and  a  spark 
could  set  them  in  flames.  "  Some  of  them  would  have 
taken  him  ;  but  no  man  laid  hands  on  him." 

There  was  a  like  excitement  going  on  among  the 
priests  and  scribes  who  had  sent  their  minions  to  arrest 
Jesus.  The  officers  returned  empty-handed.  Worse 
than  that;  when  questioned  why  they  had  not  brought 
him,  it  became  manifest  that  they  had  been  half  car- 
ried away  themselves  by  the  wonderful  words  and 
manner  of  Jesus.  "Never  man  spake  like  this  man," 
was  the  spontaneous  compliment  which  they  paid  to 
this  greatest  master  of  human  speech. 

At  this  the  rulers  seem  to  have  lost  all  self-control. 
In  violent  rage  they  taunted  them  with  having  been 
fooled  and  outwitted.  They  anxiously  asked  whether 
the  infection  had  spread  to  any  of  the  Pharisees  or  the 
rulers,  and  then  railed  roundly  at  the  stupidity  of  the 
crowd.  These  cursed  common  folks  have  no  sense ! 
"This  people  who  knoweth  not  the  law  are  cursed." 

It  was  a  noble  and  courao-eous  thing-  in  Nicodemus 
calmly  to  face  this  fury  with  the  question,  "  Doth  our 
law  judge  any  man,  before  it  hear  him,  and  know  what 
he  doeth?"  They  turn  now  upon  him,  and  with  cut- 
ting contempt  ask,  "  Art  thou  also  of  Galilee?" 

In  every  nation  there  are  certain  words  which  store 
up  in  themselves  all  the  hating  feelings  of  men  ;  and 
these  are  used  as  noisome  missiles  in  controversies. 
"  Galilee  "  was  one  of  them.     The  rulers  broke  it  over 


lOG  FAREWELL   TO   GALILEE. 

Nicodemus's  head    like   an  alabaster-box  of  stenchful 
odor. 

The  priests  went  home.  The  people  dispersed.  Jesus 
went  forth  out  of  the  city  across  to  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  The  evening  came  on  with  rest  and  holy  com- 
munion, and  in  his  booth  Jesus  found  a  refuge  from 
the  excitement  of  the  Temple  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CONSCIOUS    DIVINITY. 

The  early  summer  is  full  of  gayety.  The  tender 
leaves,  the  repeated  showers,  the  wonderful  swarms  of 
insects,  the  industry  of  birds  building  in  every  tree,  or 
beneath  sheltering  eaves,  or  under  brush  or  tufted 
grass  in  the  fields,  the  outburst  of  morning  song  from 
which  intermittent  rills  of  sweet  sounds  flow  all  through 
the  day,  the  rise  of  successive  ranks  of  flowers,  the 
universal  enterprise  of  nature,  give  to  summer  all  the 
energies  of  youth  and  the  productiveness  of  manhood. 
But  the  autumn  seems  richer,  stronger,  more  beautiful. 
Over  its  mild  days  hangs  an  atmosphere  surcharged 
with  color.  The  fields  are  proud  with  fruits.  The  air 
is  full  of  nameless  odors.  And  yet,  though  the  forests 
are  wild  with  gorgeous  colors,  and  the  whole  earth  is 
redolent  with  beauty,  there  is  a  sobriety,  even  a  sad- 
ness, which  tempers  the  hours  and  takes  from  per- 
fumed ripeness  the  appearance  of  display,  and  throws 
a  spiritual  element  over  all  the  sensuous  beauty. 

The  last  few  months  of  the  life  of  Jesus  were  autum- 
nal, full  of  ripeness,  rich  in  beauty,  but  pervaded  with 
an  indescribably  serene  sadness.  There  was  about  him 
a  divine  atmosphere. 

He  was  never  so  calmly  serene  or  so  earnestly  ten- 
der.    His  spirit  played  back  and  forth  between  magis- 


108  CONSCIOUS  mvixiTY. 

terial  sternness  and  personal  affection.  The  lion  and 
the  lamb  were  surely  dwelling  together !  The  divinity 
that  was  in  him  no  longer  Hashed  intermittingly,  but 
shone  now  with  full  strength.  In  these  last  days  come 
out  into  strong  relief  the  richness  and  intensity  of  his 
personal  affection.  His  private  conversations  are  full 
of  sacred  love.  It  was  not  simply  that  his  great  soul 
overhung  his  friends  as  the  heavens  overarch  the  fields, 
filling  the  flowers  with  heat  by  day  and  cooling  them 
with  dews  by  night.  It  was  like  a  mother's,  a  lover's, 
a  friend's,  but  larger  than  either,  deeper  than  all.  It 
was  near,  clinging,  confiding,  joy-inspiring.  There  is 
something  exceedingly  affecting  in  the  need  of  being 
loved  as  Jesus  manifests.  He  suffered  from  the  selfish- 
ness of  his  fellow-countrymen.  To  be  doubted  pierced 
him  with  pangs.  He  yearned  for  love  and  found  it, 
but  in  small  measure  and  imperfect  in  kind.  Yet  he 
gathered  the  worldly  hearts,  and  brooded  them  as  a 
hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings. 

If  his  affection  seemed  more  ripe  and  rich,  what 
shall  ..we  say  of  his  teaching  ?  It  fairly  effulged.  His 
earlier  parables,  apt  but  simple,  and  for  the  most  part 
brief,  almost  apothegmatic,  grew  more  in  number, 
amplitude,  and  dignity.  Such  parables  as  the  Prodigal 
8on  open  the  deepest  element  of  divine  government  in 
pictorial  vividness.  Ilis  own  conduct  unconsciously  as- 
sumed, as  it  was  with  the  old  prophets,  a  parabolic  form. 
It  needed  only  a  formal 'application,  and  the  cursing 
of  the  barren  fig-tree  was  one  of  his  most  solemn 
parables,  having  in  it  an  element  of  prophecy  as  well. 

His  compassion  for  the  poor,  and  for  those  that 
"  were  out  of  the  way,"  was  never  so  striking  as  in  the 
last  days  of  his  career.     His  adversaries  in  various  ways 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  109 

strove  to  break  the  influence  which  this  gave  to  him 
among  the  common  people.  A  striking  case  illustrates 
their  management. 

The  scribes  and  Pharisees  dragged  into  the  Temple, 
where  he  was  teaching  on  one  occasion,  a  woman  taken 
in  adultery.  By  the  Mosaic  code  this  crime  was  pun- 
ishable with  death.  Both  morals  and  manners  had 
become  too  lax  for  the  enforcement  of  this  law ;  and 
though  it  might  occasionally,  for  some  special  reason, 
be  revived,  yet  it  had  for  a  long  time  fallen  into  dis- 
use. The  hist  men  in  the  land  to  press  for  its  rigorous 
enforcement  were  the  leading  men  about  the  Temple. 
Indeed  the  virtue  of  the  whole  conmiunity  had  become 
tainted.  This  species  of  immorality  was  notoriously 
common  amono;  the  most  distino^uished  Rabbis.  What 
did  they  care  for  public  morals,  that  they  should  hunt 
down  this  woman  ?  Slie  was  no  brazen  creature,  gar- 
rulous and  impudent.  She  stood  in  shame  and  silence. 
She  had  sinned,  but  she  had  not  yet  corrupted  her 
conscience.  Among  themselves  these  scribes  and 
Pharisees  may  be  imagined  as  saying,  "  This  fellow 
goes  up  and  down  inveighing,  as  it  happens  to  please 
him,  against  the  customs  of  the  nation,  and  setting 
aside  our  laws  ;  and  because  he  is  kind  to  the  poor  and 
gentle  to  the  despicable  fools  among  the  rabble,  they 
are  runnino;  after  him.  Let  us  see  what  will  come  of 
his  gentleness.  If  he  dare  to  annul  a  law  of  Moses,  we 
will  impale  him  on  that;  but  if  to  avoid  that  he  con- 
demns this  woman,  the  people  will  see  what  all  his  pity 
comes  to."  And  so  they  bring  the  shrinking  culprit, 
and  politely  inquire,  with  orthodox  emphasis  on  every 
word,  "  Master,  Moses,  in  the  law,  commanded  us  that 
such  should  be  stoned ;   but,  what  sayest  thou  ?  " 


110  CONSCIOUS  DIVlXfTY. 

Jesus  had  an  air  of  abstraction.  Men  in  deep 
thought  often  score  figures  upon  their  desk,  or  with 
a  cane  upon  the  ground  ;  "  and  Jesus  stooped  down 
and,  with  his  finger,  wrote  upon  the  ground,  as  though 
he  heard  them  not."  They  glanced  at  each  other  a 
look  of  triumph.  He  was  puzzled,  and  would  escape 
by  silence !     Push  it  home,  drive  him  to  answer ! 

*•'  So  wlien  they  continued  asking  he  lifted  up  him- 
self," and  surely  casting  upon  one  and  another  that 
piercing  look,  calm  but  unbearably  scorching,  he  re- 
plied, ''  Let  him  that  is  without  sin  among  ?/oi(  cast  the 
first  stone."  As  a  master-marksman  turns  quietly 
away  after  firing,  and  leaves  others  to  examine  the 
target,  so  "  again  he  stooped  down  and  wrote  upon 
the  ground."  The  deep  silence  was  broken  only  by 
the  impertinent  giggle  of  the  people,  who  saw  the  force 
of  this  home-thrust,  and  enjoyed  the  change  of  face 
which  came  over  these  crafty  old  men.  There  was  a 
moment's  pause,  and  then  a  rustling  of  long  gowns,  as 
one  Rabbi  after  another  bethought  him  of  some  errand 
and  stole  forth.  The  case  was  finished.  They  had 
received  their  answer.  Their  anxiety  about  Moses  and 
the  law,  and  the  purity  of  woman,  was  alleviated ! 

When  the  last  shuffling  footstep  died  away,  Jesus 
rose.  The  shamed  woman  had  not  sought  escape. 
She  stood  waiting  in  silence.  /S7ie  felt  the  presence  of 
a  divinity  which  the  consecrated  men  had  missed. 
"  Hath  no  man  condemned  thee  ?  "  "  No  man,  Lord." 
"  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee  :  go,  and  sin  no  more." 
Not  a  judicial  condemnation ;  but  that  word  sin  no 
more,  did  it  not  fill  her  soul  with  new  impulses  of  vir- 
tue ?  What  need  of  setting  her  guilt  before  her,  of 
stirring  her  heart  with  anguish,  of  demanding  a  life  of 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  Ill 

remorse  for  the  unforgotten  sins  of  past  days?  No. 
He  opened  to  her  and  to  every  one  the  divine  gate  of 
pardon,  over  which  is  written,  "  Go,  sin  no  more." 
This  was  said  in  the  very  spirit  of  another  utterance, 
"•  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice." 

These  scenes  occurred  upon  the  Sabbath-day.  It  is 
probable  that  a  week  elapsed,  and  that  the  memorable 
discussion  respecting  the  divinity  of  Jesus,  and  the 
revelation  of  the  utter  corruption  of  the  Jews,  took 
place  on  the  next  Sabbath  following. 

The  one  object  in  the  natural  w^orld  which  would  be 
likely  among  all  early  people  to  be  taken  as  a  symbol 
of  divinity  is,  beyond  question,  the  sun.  The  worship 
of  the  sun  is  the  cleanest  idolatry  that  ever  existed  ; 
for  the  sun,  as  it  appears  to  uninstructed  eyes,  is  a 
royal  power,  of  infinite  empire.  His  absence  shuts 
up  creation  in  darkness.  He  restores  again,  when  the 
morning  comes,  all  things  to  life  and  beauty.  Such 
is  its  intense  glory  that  no  eye  can  look  upon  it.  It  is 
the  cause  of  beauty,  fertility,  and  universal  happiness. 
What  other  object  in  nature  could  so  perform  the 
functions  of  royal  power,  and  make  men  so  depend- 
ent upon  its  presence,  as  the  sun  ?  It  wrought  its 
endless  miracles  in  an  open  hemisphere,  and  wdth  a 
power  so  displayed  that  every  intelligent  creature  could 
not  fail  to  behold  it.  Here  then  was  power,  univer- 
sal presence,  creative  energy,  sustaining  force,  infinite 
variety. 

When  going  forth  in  morning,  he  is  gentle  to  tender- 
ness, kissing  every  flower,  sporting  with  every  drop  of 
rain  and  dew,  embracing  the  wdiole  earth  with  sweet 
influence,  and  holding  it  in  its  arms  of  light  as  a 
mother  caresses  her  child  ;  but  when  travelling  in  the 


112  CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY. 

greatness  of  its  strengtli,  be  subdues  all  tilings,  pierc- 
ing witb  arms  of  fierce  ligbt  and  beat,  and  driving  all 
creatures  to  tbeir  coverts  to  bide  tbeniselves  from  tbe 
beat  tbereof. 

Is  it  surprising  tbat  tbe  old  Hebrew  propbets,  wbo 
employed  every  object  and  aspect  of  a  visible  world  to 
illustrate  tbeir  tbougbts,  sbould  bave  made  tbe  sun  tbe 
cbief  symbol  of  divinity,  and  ligbt  tbe  grand  repre- 
sentative of  moral  trutb  ?  David  said,  For  the  Lord 
God  is  a  sun.  Wbo  bas  not  seen  in  early  morning 
rays  of  ligbt  like  featbers,  and  spread  out  like  wings, 
just  before  tbe  sun  rose  over  tbe  horizon  to  revive 
the  earth?  Malacbi  seizes  tbat  aspect:  Unto  you  that 
fear  ni//  name  shall  the  snn  of  righteousness  arise,  vMh  hc<d- 
ing  in  his  wings.  The  Psalmist  regards  the  hgbt  as  tbe 
shining  of  God's  face  ;  it  is  tbe  white  raiment  with 
which  God  covers  himself :  Who  corerest  thgsclf  tvith 
ligM  as  with  a  garment.  Isaiah  comforts  men  wbo  are 
faithful  in  adversity :  The  Lord  shall  he  to  thee  an  ever- 
lasting light.  As  in  the  progress  of  ages  tbe  idea  of  a 
Messiah  was  more  and  more  fully  developed,  and  a  dim 
glow  of  prophetic  light  bung  over  the  future,  the  ex- 
ultant prophet  cries :  Thg  light  has  come ;  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee.  For  heJwld  darkness  shall  cover 
the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people :  hut  the  Lord  shall 
arise  upon  thee,  and  his  glory  shall  he  seen  vpon  thee.  In 
short,  light  had  become  a  sacred  symbol,  and  the  sun 
an  emblem  of  divinity. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  scene  which  we  have  re- 
counted tbat  Jesus,  while  teaching  in  the  Temple,  called 
out  to  tbe  people  in  the  presence  of  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, /  am  the  IJght  of  the  world!  If  such  an  exclama- 
tion hushed   them  for  a  moment  witb   surprise,  that 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  113 

which  followed  aroused  them  to  anger  :  He  that  folloio- 
eth  me  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  hut  shall  have  the  light 
of  life.  From  but  one  being  in  the  universe  could 
such  language  flow  with  propriety.  It  would  have 
seemed  an  insanity  in  Moses,  even  when  descending 
from  Sinai.  It  would  have  been  audacious  in  Elijah  in 
his  wildest  inspirations,  even  if  they  had  fallen  from  the 
ascending  chariot  of  fire.  Isaiah,  in  the  loftiest  mood 
of  inspired  poetry  and  prophesying,  could  not  have 
thus  spoken  of  himself  without  a  shocking  immodesty. 

To  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  they  seemed  a  prepos- 
terous egotism,  a  superlative  arrogance.  It  is  a  he  ! 
You  are  boasting  about  yourself  Thou  hearest  record 
of  thyself ;  thy  record  is  not  true. 

At  that  focal  point,  where  the  language  of  the  Old 
Testament  had  risen  to  its  greatest  intensity,  and  when 
all  the  sublimest  figures  poured  down  upon  the  future 
Messiah,  there  Jesus  had  taken  his  stand,  and  an- 
nounced to  his  adversaries  that  which  they  rightly 
understood  as  a  claim  that  the  glorious  prophecies  of 
the  Messiah  met  and  were  fulfilled  in  him !  To  their 
passionate  reply  he  calmly  answered  that  they  were 
not  competent  to  judge  of  his  divinity.  Ye  cannot  tell 
ivhence  I  come  and  whither  I  go  :  ye  judge  after  the  flesh. 
His  inward  life  was  joined  to  that  of  God.  The  divine 
consciousness  was  so  vivid  in  that  brain  that,  though 
standing  alone  in  that  multitude,  he  boldly  declares 
that  there  were  two  witnesses  :  It  is  tvritten  in  your  law 
that  the  testimony  of  two  is  true.  I  am  one  that  hear 
witness  of  myself,  and  the  Father  that  hath  sent  me  hear- 
eth  ivitness  of  me.  With  a  sneer  they  ask,  "  Where  is 
thy  Father  ?  "  Briefly  he  ended  the  controversy,  look- 
ing down  upon  them  glowering  with  rage  and  medi- 

VOL.  II. —  8  _ 


114  CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY. 

tating  blood,  by  declaring  that  both  himself  and  his 
Father  dwelt  in  a  sphere  which  gross  natures  like 
theirs  could  not  penetrate.  Ye  neither  know  me  nor 
my  Father.  If  ye  had  known  me,  ye  should  have  knoicn 
my  Father  also.  At  every  word  his  assumption  of  di- 
vinity shone  brighter  and  brighter.  To  the  Jews  such 
a  claim  in  any  one  would  have  been  blasphemous; 
but  in  this  man,  this  ignorant  Galilean,  this  mischief- 
making  fellow,  who  had  turmoiled  the  province  with 
his  impudence,  and  had  come  to  Jerusalem  to  rail  at 
constituted  authorities  and  pour  contempt  on  holy  cus- 
toms and  a  sacred  ritual,  it  was  intolerable.  It  is  plain 
that  they  were  on  the  eve  of  tearing  him  to  pieces. 
Hundreds  had  before  this  been  suddenly  murdered  in 
an  hour  of  fanatical  rage.  They  had  him  now  in  their 
power,  separated  from -the  people,  in  the  "  Treasury," 
a  portion  of  the  Woman's  Court,  in  the  interior  of  the 
Temple.  It  seemed  to  his  disciples,  probably,  that  he 
was  saved  by  a  direct  interposition  of  Providence,  for 
they  say,  and  no  man  laid  hands  on  him ;  for  his  hour 
ivas  not  yet  come. 

This  assumption  of  light  as  his  proper  symbol  was  a 
kind  of  second  transfiguration.  After  an  interval,  but 
while  the  excitement  yet  ran  high,  the  controversy 
was  resumed,  Jesus  speaking  continually  from  an  in- 
ward divine  consciousness,  and  from  the  plane  of  the 
spirit ;  his  adversaries  replying  from  the  lowest  plane 
of  the  senses,  and  from  corrupt  passions.  It  is  not 
likely  that  the  same  men  carried  on  with  him  this 
remarkable  colloquy.  It  was  in  these  discussions  that 
the  rulers  and  scribes  first  felt  fully  the  force  of  this 
man,  and  became  alive  to  the  impossibility  of  using 
him,  or  preventing  him   from    alienating    the    people 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  115 

from  tlieir  sway.     Out  of  these  conflicts  grew  at  length 
a  settled  determination  to  destroy  him. 

AUuding  to  the  murderous  intents  which  the  con- 
troversy in  tlie  Treasury  had  disclosed,  Jesus  declares, 
with  a  veiled  sadness,  and  speaking  from  the  interior, 
that  a  time  would  come  when  somethino;  in  them  would 
crave  just  such  relief  as  his  nature  afforded,  but  they 
would  not  then  know  how  to  reach  it,  and  would  per- 
ish in  their  necessities.  /  go  my  ivuf/,  and  >jc  shall  seek 
me,  and  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins  ;  whither  I  go,  ye  cannot 
come.  They  could  imagine  but  one  way  of  hiding  him- 
self, —Tf///  he  Jcill  himself? 

Though  far  from  knowing  his  words,  yet  an  impres- 
sion was  being  made  upon  the  multitude,  which  was 
soon  developed  into  sympathy  and  belief  Let  one 
conceive,  if  he  can,  the  attitude  and  countenance  of 
one  who  could  so  say,  /  am  from  above,  ye  are  front  be- 
neath ;  ye  are  of  this  world,  I  am  not  of  this  world,  as  to  re- 
duce the  combative  crowd  to  respectful  silence,  and 
even  elicit  the  tremulous  question,  Who  art  thou? 

But  the  reply,  I  am  the  same  that  I  said  nnto  you  from 
the  beginning,  would  seem  to  show  that  among  those 
around  him  were  many  Galileans,  who  had  contested 
the  claim  to  Messiahship  and  knew  that  from  the 
beginning  Jesus  had  held  but  one  language.  But  that 
finer  consistency,  the  divine  carriage  of  the  soul,  they 
could  not  understand.  His  mind  was  often  swayed  by 
deep  sympathetic  emotions.  He  had  such  sorrow  and 
struggles  as  belong  to  the  parental  heart,  but  none  for 
himself.  The  intuitions  of  men  run  through  a  small 
space,  and  pertain  to  the  lower  range  of  truths.  Ex- 
citement and  labor  mark  the  effort  of  even  the  great- 
est natures  to  reach  new  truths.     In  Jesus  there  was 


116  CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY. 

from  the  first  a  profound  calmness  in  dealing*  with  the 
liighest  range  of  moral  truth. 

There  was  no  flash  of  inspiration,  but  a  simple  look- 
ing upon  familiar  themes.  There  was  a  development 
in  his  life  and  teachings,  but  there  was  never  the  air 
of  discovery,  the  excitement  of  one  who  has  reached 
novel  and  unexpected  truths.  He  moved  among 
thousrhts  of  the  infinite  and  the  inefBible  with  the 
quietness  of  spirit  and  completeness  of  comprehension 
of  one  who  had  always  known  them.  His  claim  to 
companionship  with  God  was  accompanied  by  a  tran- 
quillity of  soul  which  to  us  can  be  interpreted  in  no 
way  so  nearly  as  by  the  term  which  he  continually 
employed.  Father.  There  was  never  any  sense  of  sin- 
fulness, nor  a  single  expression  of  penitence,  nor  one 
aspect  of  that  awe  which  conscious  weakness  has  in  the 
presence  of  power.  There  was  no  surprise  or  prophetic 
rapture  at  glorious  insights  of  the  heavenly  state  and 
of  the  divine  glory.  These  things  had  been  present 
to  him  from  the  eternities.  It  is  at  just  this  point, 
where  the  visible  and  the  invisible  meet,  that  men  are 
most  eager  and  excited.  The  yearning  to  know  the  un- 
knowable, the  vague  sense  of  an  unattainable  beauty, 
the  glimpses  of  truth,  and  visions  of  ineffable  excel- 
lence, work  a  fermentation  in  susceptible  natures,  and 
keep  them  in  a  sweet  but  toilsome  eagerness  and  dis- 
quiet. But  along  that  line  the  soul  of  Jesus  moved 
with  singular  calmness,  never  flushed  with  the  sight  of 
heavenly  things,  never  hastening  his  speed  as  if  fear- 
ing to  lose  the  vision.  This  repose  of  spirit  in  the 
divine  presence,  this  tranquil  movement  of  his  thoughts 
among  themes  which  task  and  agitate  the  loftiest 
human  souls,  this  extreme  of  sensibility  to  the  pure  and 


Conscious  lhvinity.  117 

the  true,  joined  to  entire  restfulness,  is  the  unerring 
sign  of  heavenly  breeding. 

But  how  could  Jesus  evidence  his  divinity  to  the 
coarse  and  passionate  natures  whose  key-note  was  the 
shrillest  selfishness,  in  whom  the  spiritual  sensibility 
was  dead  or  torpid  ?  Words  are  but  interpretations  of 
vague  sensibilities  in  us  already  existing.  What  proof 
could  there  be  of  moral  sweetness  to  malignant  pride,  of 
gentleness  and  tenderness  in  power  to  harsh  and  cruel 
men  ?  The  presence  of  divinity  is  the  proof  of  divinity, 
as  beauty  is  the  only  demonstration  of  beauty,  and 
goodness  the  only  possible  proof  of  goodness. 

It  is  this  that  gives  to  the  conversations  of  Jesus 
with  his  adversaries  the  peculiar  complexion  that  they 
have.  When  ye  have  lifted  up  the  Sou  of  Man  then  ye  shall 
Jcnow  that  I  am  he,  and  that  I  do  nothing  of  myself :  but  as 
my  Father  hath  taught  me  I  speak  these  things.  And  he  that 
sent  me  is  with  me :  the  Father  hath  not  left  me  alone :  for  I 
do  always  those  things  which  please  him.  The  impression 
already  made  upon  the  better  natures  among  his 
hearers  was  deepened  by  these  words.  They  do  not 
seem  to  have  a  special  force  as  they  stand  before  us. 
But  if  while  he  calmly  asserted  his  affiliation  with  the 
Father  there  fell  upon  him  the  light  of  heavenly  sweet- 
ness, if  his  face  beamed  with  the  joy  of  such  thoughts 
as  sprung  from  the  dejDths  of  his  home  and  the  bosom  of 
his  Father,  we  may  well  suppose  tliat  his  words  carried 
weight  with  every  honest  soul  endowed  with  moral  sen- 
sibility.   And  AS  he  spake  these  ivords  many  believed  on  him. 

We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  discourse  selected 
here  was  as  catechetically  condensed  as  it  appears  in  the 
text  of  John's  Gospel.  Without  doubt  here  is  but  the 
substance,  the  mere  points,  while  the  wide  circuits,  the 


118  CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY. 

interruptions,  the  lapse  of  time,  the  explanations  Avliich 
carried  the  speech  back  and  forth,  are  not  marked 
down.  Such  colloquial  discourses  as  those  which  Jesus 
uttered  in  the  Temple  and  elsewhere  resemble  the  j^as- 
sage  through  a  w^ide  alluvial  meadow  of  a  full  brook, 
at  every  rock  or  tree  swinging  round  in  graceful  cir- 
cuits, changed  by  every  obstacle  into  some  new  curve 
of  beauty,  and  after  wide  sweeps,  with  verdant  banks, 
comes  back  often  almost  to  the  very  point  at  which  it 
entered  the  level  field.  Every  mile  it  compasses  five 
miles. 

It  was  wdien  the  stream  had  flowed  on  awhile  that 
those  who  believed  upon  him  showed  signs  of  being 
shaken.  Jesus  said,  If  ye  conthme  in  my  ivord,  then  are 
ye  my  disciples  indeed,  and  ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and 
the  truth  shall  make  you  free.  When  the  whole  hemi- 
sphere of  transcendent  experience  ■which  these  words 
open  is  considered,  one  feels  ashamed  that  only  such 
fiuit  as  this  was  ripened  :  "  We  be  Abraham's  seed, 
and  were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man  :  how  sayest 
thou;  Ye  shall  he  made  free?"  The  discourse  is  not 
now  confined  to  the  few  that  believed  but  are  falling 
again  into  the  slough  of  Jewish  national  pride.  The 
logic  of  Jesus's  reply  is  not  that  of  extensive  relation, 
but  the  sublime  logic  of  spiritual  truth.  He  that  sins  is 
a  slave  to  sin.  Ye  are  slaves,  therefore,  and  liable  to 
be  sold  out  of  the  family.  The  Son  alone  abides  of 
right.  If  he  emancipates  you,  then  you  emerge  into 
real  liberty.  Now,  I  am  the  Son.  I  can  clear  you  from 
bondage.  If  my  teaching  seems  vague  and  mysterious, 
it  is  because  it  is  heavenly ;  it  is  divine.  It  is  from 
my  Father.  But  your  actions  flow  from  your  earthly 
nature,  and  are  derived  from  your  father. 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  119 

The  severity  of  this  contrast  of  origins  is  as  yet 
undeveloped,  and  the  Jews  open  on  a  wrong  scent: 
"Abraham  is  our  father;"  to  which  Jesus  replies,  If 
he  were,  ye  would  have  his  traits  and  imitate  his  ex- 
ample. Ye  may  be  his  descendants,  but  not  his  chil- 
dren. Ye  inherit  from  him  by  the  flesh,  but  not  by 
the  spirit.  Bui  notv  ye  seek  to  kill  me,  a  man  that  hath  told 
you  the  truth,  ivMch  I  have  heard  of  God.:  this  did  not  Abra- 
ham. And  then  giving  greater  emphasis  to  the  idea  of 
their  spurious  truth,  he  adds,  "  Ye  do  the  deeds  of  your 
father."  They  begin  to  understand,  and  yet  are  un- 
certain. If  you  mean  that  we  are  literally  illegitimate, 
it  is  false.  If  you  mean  spiritual  illegitimacy,  then  we 
have  one  father,  God. 

The  reply  of  Jesus  will  seem  harsh  and  angry  if  we 
suppose  it  uttered  under  visible  excitement.  But  calm- 
ness where  others  were  excited  was  notably  the  habit 
of  his  life.  No  discord  could  be  imagined  so  great  as 
an  irritable  and  angry  speech  from  Jesus.  His  denun- 
ciations derive  their  force  from  their  judicial  tone. 
We  must  in  this  instance  imagine  Jesus  speaking  with 
deliberation  and  solemnity,  turning  his  gaze  from  one 
to  another.  Ye  ake  of  your  father,  the  Devil,  and  the 
lusts  of  your  father  ye  will  do.  He  was  a  murderer  from  the 
beginning,  and  abode  not  in  the  truth,  because  there  ivas  no 
truth  in  him.  When  he  speahcth  a  lie,  he  speaJceth  of  his 
oivn  ;  for  he  is  a  liar  and  the  father  of  it.  And  because  I 
tell  you  the  tridh,  ye  believe  me  not.  Which  of  you  conviddh 
me  of  sin  ?  And  if  I  say  the  truth,  ivhy  do  ye  not  believe 
me  ?  He  that  is  of  God  heareth  God's  tvords.  Ye  therefore 
hear  them  not  because  ye  are  not  of  God. 

To  domineering  priests,  to  scribes  full  of  ambition 
and  vanity,  to  self-indulgent   Sadducees,  and   to   the 


120  CONSCIOUS  DIM^NITY. 

pragmatical  Pharisee,  shallow,  conceited,  careless  of 
moral  truth,  but  absurdly  conscientious  about  trifles, 
these  words  must  have  come  as  the  hot  iron  of  the  sur- 
geon cauterizing  malignant  sores. 

Men  express  so  much  as  they  can  of  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  an  act  or  quality  upon  them,  and  call  that 
expression  truth.  But  it  is  plain  that  nothing  can  be 
true  but  the  existence  itself  of  which  he  speaks.  The 
reduction  of  an  experience  to  language  is  a  diminish- 
ing of  the  amplitude  and  freedom  of  the  thing  itself  to 
the  prison-house  of  words.  The  truth  of  love  and  of 
loving  is  not  expressed  by  the  words  "  love  "  and  '"•  lov- 
ing." The  thing  itself  rises  into  the  inexpressible,  and 
words  only  serve  to  point  men  toward  that  which  is 
above  words.  If  one  has  the  heart  to  recognize  such 
experience,  he  imderstands ;  if  not,  he  cannot  receive 
it.  Jesus  habitually  spoke  to  the  educated  Jews  as  one 
who  saw  the  truth,  not  as  it  shone  out  of  words,  but  as 
it  existed  above  and  beyond  all  words,  in  its  own  self. 
He  did  not  charge  upon  them  sin  in  its  specific  actions, 
but  in  that  whole  disposition  which  made  their  very 
being  an  orb  of  sinfulness.  They  lived  in  their  fleshly 
nature.  Their  nobler  faculties  were  employed  to  give 
intensity  to  the  lower  nature.  Pride,  ostentatious  hy- 
pocrisy, inordinate  spiritual  conceit,  the  masking  of 
avarice  and  stinginess  by  boasted  liberality,  the  giving 
to  concupiscence  of  every  kind  the  sanctions  of  religion, 
—  all  these  were  but  the  outworking  of  a  whole  dis- 
position that  moved  in  harmony  with  evil.  All  the 
tender  elements  of  pure  love,  pity,  sincerity,  gentle- 
ness, trust,  fidelity,  beauty,  benevolence,  were  blighted 
by  their  influence. 

It  was  not  an  extravagance  of  impatience  or  anger 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  121 

that  led  Jesus  to  pronounce  them  children  of  the  Devil, 
nor  to  style  that  evil  spirit  whose  whole  movement 
and  influence  was  to  destroy  good  a  murderer  from 
the  beginning. 

It  is  plain  that  it  is  impossible  for  essential  vulgarity 
of  spirit  to  comprehend  delicacy  and  refinement.  The 
essential  spirit  of  avarice  cannot  understand  generosity. 
A  glutton  cannot  know  the  pleasure  of  temperance. 
Hate  and  envy  cannot  sympathize  with  loving-kind- 
ness, nor  cruelty  with  tender  mercies.  Men  who  were 
thoroughly  corrupt  could  not  understand  even  human 
truth  as  men  essentially  good,  and  still  less  rise  to  an 
intuition  of  divine  things.  The  single  sentence  of 
Jesus,  He  that  is  of  God  heareth  God's  words  ;  ye  there- 
fore hear  them  not  because  ye  are  not  of  God,  —  this  is  a 
touchstone.  It  tells  human  character  and  classifies 
men,  not  by  any  artificial  tests,  but  by  the  very  nature 
of  their  being. 

The  chiefs  no  longer  attempt  to  reason,  they  retort 
with  opprobrious  epithets.  The  hatefullest  name  known 
to  a  Jew  was  Samaritan.  But  a  Samaritan  with  a  devil 
was  odiousness  run  mad.  "  Thou  art  a  Samaritan  and 
hast  a  devil !  " 

Jesus  declares  that  such  a  charge  dishonored  the 
essential  truth  of  his  life;  that  his  whole  being  honored 
God,  and  God  will  seek  and  receive  his  servant's  honor. 
/  have  not  a  devil ;  hut  I  honor  my  Father  and  ye  do  dis- 
honor me ;  and  I  seek  not  my  own  glory  ;  there  is  one  that 
seeJceth  and  judgeth.  Then  rising,  as  it  were,  into  the 
very  realm  of  invisible  truth,  and  speaking  of  words  as 
if  he  meant  that  whole  inward  life  which  he  had  in 
common  with  God,  with  solemn  emphasis  he  said,  Verily, 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  if  a  man  keep  my  words,  he  shall  never 


122  CONSCIOUS  DinNITY. 

see  death.  The  arrow  shot  far  over  their  heads.  They 
bhndly  reply,  "  Now  we  know  that  thou  hast  a  devil. 
Abraham  is  dead.  .  .  .  Art  thou  greater  than  our 
father  Abraham,  which  is  dead  ?  and  the  prophets 
(which)  are  dead?     Whom  makest  thou  thyself?" 

Jesus  misivered,  If  I  honor  myself,  my  hx)nor  is  tiothmg :  it 
is  my  Father  ihcd  Jionoreih  me,  of  whom  ye  say,  that  he  is 
your  God.  Yet  ye  have  not  hioivn  hun  ;  hut  I  hiow  him, 
and  if  I  should  say  I  know  him  not,  I  shall  he  a  liar  like  unto 
you :  bid  I  know  him,  and  Jceejj  his  saying.  Your  father 
Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  my  day  ;  and  he  saiv  it,  and  tvas 
glad. 

Still  following  his  words  in  their  lowest  physical  and 
literal  sense,  they  point  to  his  age,  not  yet  fifty,  as  a 
refutation.  The  climax  was  reached  when,  without 
excitement,  in  the  simplicity  of  his  divine  conscious- 
ness, Jesus  replied,  Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  Befoke 
Abraham  was,  I  am. 

This  was  worse  than  insanity.  It  was  an  assumption 
absolutely  blasphemous  in  any  man,  and  it  was  a 
blasphemy  which  cut  the  more  keenly  because  it 
took  Abraham  in,  in  its  way  toward  God.  Their  rage 
burst  out.  Stones  !  stones  !  These  arguments  seem  to 
have  been  kept  ready  in  the  Temple  to  be  used  in  an 
■exigency.  But  in  the  whirl,  as  the  enraged  men  ran 
for  missiles,  Jesus,  quietly  moving  among  the  crowd, 
so  hid  himself  as  to  escape  his  deadly  enemies. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  though  Jesus  foresaw  his  own 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  rulers  of  his  people,"  and  the 
certainty  of  it  is  ever  before  him,  he  awaits  the  une- 
quivocal indication  of  his  Father's  will,  and  never 
rashly  runs  upon  the  inevitable  event,  as  one  weary  of 
suspense  and  of  waiting. 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  123 

These  extraordinary  discourses  and  consequent  de- 
bates were  held  upon  the  Sabbath  day  in  the  Temple, 
but  they  did  not  complete  the  labors  of  Jesus  on  that 
Sabbath.  To  this  same  day  it  is  probable  that  the 
drama  of  the  blind  man  healed  belongs,  and  also  the 
parable  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  We  call  it  a  drama, 
for  there  is  no  other  name  so  fit.  Jesus  was  passing 
out  of  the  Temple.  He  seems  not  to  have  been  ex- 
cited by  the  high  discourse,  nor  ruffled  by  the  whirl 
from  whose  stones  he  had  escaped,  but  came  forth  as 
if  nothing  had  happened.  Probably  not  far  from  the 
Temple  sat  a  blind  man.  His  disciples,  holding  the 
notion  of  their  age  that  physical  infirmities  were  Divine 
punishments,  asked  Jesus  who  had  sinned,  "  this  man 
or  his  parents."  Evidently  they  were  not  yet  aware 
that  the  man  had  been  blind  from  birth.  Jesus  did 
not  controvert  the  Jewish  notions  directly,  but  as- 
serted, in  effect,  that  all  the  variations  from  normal 
creations  were  a  part  of  the  Divine  scheme.  Neither 
has  this  man  sinned  nor  his  parents ;  hut  that  the  works 
of  God  should  1)6  made  manifest  in  him. 

And  then  Jesus,  as  if  in  a  soliloquy  answering  a  sug- 
gestion that  glanced  across  his  thoughts,  to  pass  by  with- 
out extending  mercy  to  this  poor  creature,  says,  I  must 
ivork  the  ivorks  of  him  that  sent  me,  tvhile  it  is  day :  the 
night  cometh  tvhen  no  man  can  ivork.  The  man's  blind- 
ness suggests  the  blindness  of  mankind,  and  his  own 
office  as  the  Enlightener.  As  long  as  I  am  in  the 
world,  I  am  the  light  of  the  ivorld.  This  is  an  inside 
look  at  the  mind  of  Jesus.  The  consciousness  of  his 
exalted  nature  and  office  did  not  arise  only  under 
the  excitement  of  discourse.  Tt  belono;ed  to  his 
thoughts  when  by  himself     It  was  the  consciousness  of 


124  coNsciotis  DinmTY, 

a  fact,  and  not  the  occasional  picture  of  an  evanescent 
imagination. 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  solicitation  on  the  part 
of  the  blind  man.  Jesus  made  a  clay  ointment,  soften- 
ing the  chiy  with  spittle,  and  applying  it  to  his  eyes, 
commanded  him  to  go  wash  in  the  pool  of  Siloam. 
His  sight  being  restored,  he  returned  apparently  to  his 
friends.  Now  the  active  commotion  begins.  The 
neighbors  confer  as  to  his  identity,  and  express  all 
sorts  of  opinions.  The  man  is  called  and  questioned, 
and  gives  a  reply  which  showed  how  the  common  peo- 
ple heard  Jesus  spoken  of.  "A  man  that  is  called 
Jesus,"  he  says,  has  wrought  the  cure,  and  he  details 
the  manner. 

Next  came  the  case  before  the  Pharisees,  to  whom 
he  gave  the  same  account  of  himself  One  part  of 
them  thought  no  man  could  be  holy  who  broke  the 
Sabbatli  day  by  healing  a  blind  man.  But  others 
asked,  "  How  can  a  man  that  is  a  sinner  do  such  mira- 
cles ?  "  Not  able  to  shake  his  testimony,  they  began 
to  question  whether  the  man  had  been  blind  at  all. 
They  set  him  aside  and  called  his  parents.  "  Is  this 
your  son,  who  ye  say  was  born  blind  ?  How  then  doth 
he  now  see  ?"  They  answered  boldly  that  it  was  their 
son,  and  that  he  was  born  blind  ;  but  as  to  his  restora- 
tion they  were  timidly  cautious,  and  seeing  what  was 
in  the  minds  of  the  Pharisees,  they  professed  to  know 
nothing  about  the  healing,  but  shifted  the  dangerous 
answers  over  to  their  son.  "  He  is  of  age  ;  ask  him." 
It  seems  that  an  order  had  gone  forth  to  restrain  by 
fear  the  convictions  of  those  who  were  inclined  to  be- 
lieve in  Jesus.  Whoever  dared  to  give  him  counte- 
nance should  be  excommunicated. 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  125 

The  Pharisees  return  to  the  young  man.  They 
assume  a  devout  air,  as  if  to  inipress  his  rehgious  fears. 
You  have  been  healed.  To  God  you  owe  the  praise, 
not  to  man.  Beware  of  ascribing  a  Divine  mercy  to 
this  sinful  man  Jesus !  The  young  man  is  of  sturdier 
stuff  than  his  parents,  and  is  not  to  be  driven  or 
coaxed  into  any  attitude  dishonorable  to  his  benefactor. 
"  Whether  he  be  a  sinner  or  no,  I  know  not :  one  thing 
I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see."  They 
renew  the  inquiry  as  to  the  process.  His  temper  fails. 
I  have  told  you  already,  why  do  you  want  to  hear 
again  ?  And  with  audacious  pertness  he  slaps  them  in 
the  face  with  the  ironical  inquiry,  "  Will  ye  also  be  his 
disciples  ?  " 

The  spark  kindled  a  flame.  They  burst  out  into 
revilings.  "  Thou  art  his  disciple,  but  we  are  Moses' 
disciples.  We  know  that  God  spake  unto  Moses,  but 
as  for  this  fellow  we  know  not  w^hence  he  is."  There 
was  one  true  word  here,  for  this  brave  soul  was  dis- 
cipled,  and  already  had  learned  a  sermon  for  them  not 
unbecoming  to  his  new  master.  "  The  man  answered 
and  said  unto  them.  Why,  herein  is  a  marvellous  thing, 
that  ye  know  not  from  whence  he  is,  and  yet  he  hath 
opened  mine  eyes.  Now  we  know  that  God  heareth 
not  sinners;  but  if  any  man  be  a  worshipper  of  God, 
and  doeth  his  will,  him  he  heareth.  Since  the  world 
began  was  it  not  heard  that  any  man  opened  the  eyes 
of  one  that  was  born  blind.  If  this  man  were  not  of 
God,  he  could  do  nothing." 

They  were  more  than  matched  in  reasoning,  but 
they  had  an  argument  which  has  wound  up  many  a 
discussion  since  ;  "  And  they  cast  him  out !  " 

An  excommunicated  man  was  a  moral  leper.     He 


12G  CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY. 

WHS  alone  in  the  midst  of  thousands.  Social  and  com- 
mercial intercourse  was  forbidden.  So  soon  as  Jesus 
knew  the  result  of  the  conference,  without  waiting  to 
be  solicited  he  sought  for  the  now  outcast  man.  A 
few  sweet  words  and  the  man,  though  no  longer  a  free 
citizen  of  Jerusalem,  was  consciously  exalted  to  a 
higher  company,  and  to  the  liberty  of  God's  spiritual 
kingdom.  It  seems  that  the  man  did  not  yet  know 
much  about  Jesus. 

Dost  thou  believe  upon  the  Son  of  God/' 

"  Who  is  he,  Rabbi,  that  I  midit  believe  on  him  ? " 

Thou  hast  both  seen  [and  heard)  him,  and  it  is  he  that 
taUceth  ivith  thee. 

"  Lord,  I  believe  !  "  and  with  that  he  fell  at  Jesus's 
feet,  in  profound  reverence. 

There  had  been  present  some  few  Pharisees.  Je- 
sus utters  a  few  words  to  them.  It  is  an  admirable 
instance  of  his  manner  of  creating  paradox  or  anti- 
thesis by  employing  visible  facts  and  spiritual  facts 
invisible,  as  if  all  were  on  the  same  plane.  And  Jesus 
said :  For  judgment  I  am  come  into  this  ivorld,  that  they 
ivhich  see  not  mif/ht  see,  and  that  they  which  see  might  be  made 
blind. 

"Are  we  blind  also?"  they  asked,  as  if  there  could 
be  but  one  answer.  Tliey  were  blind,  but  their  blind- 
ness was  voluntary.  Their  guilt  lay  in  this,  that  they 
would  not  let  their  spiritual  nature  recognize  the  truth. 
In  a  parable  of  a  shepherd  and  his  fold  Jesus  exposes 
their  utter  unfitness  to  be  teachers  and  leaders  of  the 
people.  The  parable  is  an  exquisite  picture  of  shep- 
herd life.  They  did  not  perceive  the  deep  and  con- 
demnatory meaning.  Jesus  carried  the  parable  forward, 
and  under  the  figure  of  a  good  shepherd  that  defends 


CONSCIOUS  DIVINITY.  127 

liis  flock  even  with  his  life,  he  predicts  his  own  death, 
affirming  it  to  be  not  forced  upon  hini,  but  voluntarily 
accepted.  And  other  sheep  I  have,  which  are  not  of  this 
fohl :  them  also  I  must  I)nng,  and  thet/  shall  hear  my  voice ; 
and  there  shall  he  one  flock,  and  one  shepherd.  Therefore 
doth  my  Father  lore  me,  because  I  lay  down  my  life,  tlmt  I 
might  take  it  again.  No  man  takcth  it  from  me,  but  I  lay  it 
down  of  myself:  I  have  poiver  to  lay  it  doimi,  and  I  have 
poiver  to  take  it  again.  This  commandment  have  I  received 
of  my  Father. 

No  rendering  of  such  language  can  satisfy.  It  is  the 
utterance  of  thoughts  which  range  higher  than  human 
thouirhts.  The  words  have  a  human  element,  but  in  a 
spiritual  atmosphere  ;  they  have  a  relation  to  the  hither 
world  and  visible,  and  to  the  thither  and  invisible  world. 
We  listen  to  them  as  men  to  the  sound  of  the  sea, 
knowing  that  the  sound  that  breaks  upon  the  shore 
is  but  as  a  breath  compared  with  all  that  lies  far  out 
beyond  hearing ! 


CHAPTER  XXy. 

THE   GKOWTH   OF   CONFLICT. 

It  matters  little  whether  Jesus  returned  to  Galilee 
for  a  portion  of  the  two  months  between  the  Feast  of 
Tabernacles  and  the  Feast  of  the  Dedication,  or  whether 
he  remained  in  Judaaa.  There  is  no  statement  or  clear 
implication  of  his  leaving  Judoea.  John,  especially, 
would  hardly  have  omitted  to  mention  it.  His  work 
in  Galilee  seems  to  have  been  wound  up  after  his  re- 
turn from  the  Transfiguration,  and  we  cannot  perceive 
any  reason  for  reopening  it.  There  were  many  rea- 
sons why  JudaBa  should  receive  a  portion  of  his  minis- 
tration. The  discourses,  parables,  and  controversies 
which  belong  to  this  period  have  a  suggestion  of  Ju- 
daea, rather  than  of  Galilee.  The  images  and  ideas  are 
not  those  belonging  to  a  pure  Jewish  community ;  the 
parables  are  no  longer  drawn  from  the  husbandry  of 
Galilee,  the  plains  of  Esdrrelon,  or  Genesaret,  the  fish- 
eries of  the  sea,  nets,  boats,  etc.  Instead,  we  imagine 
in  the  vineyards,  the  vine,  the  Good  Samaritan,  the 
nobleman,  the  shepherds  and  their  flocks,  the  fig-tree, 
a  Juda^an  flavor.  There  is  also  in  the  topics  discussed, 
in  the  higher  key  in  which  his  discourses  are  cast, 
an  indication  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  men  of 
culture,  and  of  higher  dialectical  skill  than  existed  in 
Galilee.  He  seems  conscious  of  being  in  the  Temple 
atmosphere. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT.  129 

The  domestic  life  of  Jesus,  —  is  there  any  light 
thrown  upon  it  ?  Where  did  he  make  his  home  from 
day  to  day  ?  That  he  often  left  the  city  at  night,  and 
returned  in  the  morning,  we  know.  That  he  spent 
many  nights  bivouacking  on  the  sides  of  Olivet,  as 
poor  pilgrims  were  wont  to  do,  would  be  inferred  from 
many  passages,  and  gives  a  literal  rendering  of  the 
declaration,  "The  foxes  have  holes,"  etc.  Were  there 
not  homes  for  him  among  the  citizens  of  Jerusalem  ? 
Where  so  many  gave  evidence  of  belief  in  him,  when 
such  men  as  Nicodemus,  among  the  highest  classes, 
hardly  disguised  their  sympathy,  is  it  likely  that  he 
lacked  invitation  and  welcome  within  the  walls  of  the 
hoary  city  of  Jerusalem  ? 

His  manners  and  habits  must  be  left  to  the  imagina- 
tion. We  have  seen  that  though  his  carriage  at  times 
was  impressive  and  awe-inspiring,  yet  on  the  whole 
he  was  specially  attractive  to  those  around  him,  that  he 
was  easy  of  approach,  that  he  inspired  strong  personal 
friendship,  that  he  was  familiar,  not  only  in  speech, 
but  in  person,  walking  hand  in  hand  with  men,  touch- 
ing those  that  he  healed,  and  showing  that  love  of 
nearness  and  fond  contact  which  belongs  to  natures 
full  of  love-sympathy.  The  poor  looked  upon  him  as 
their  own,  their  champion  and  hero,  and  mothers  and 
little  children  drew  around  him  ;  while  the  outcasts, 
the  very  abandoned,  warmed  in  his  presence  with  the 
kindlings  of  hope  and  inspirations  of  a  better  life. 

What,  then,  must  of  necessity  have  been  the  house- 
hold life  of  one  who  drew  all  to  him  in  a  genial  famil- 
iarity ?  It  is  impossible  that,  with  his  love  of  children, 
he  should  not  be  the  centre  of  their  artless  curiosity 
and  affection  j  he  smilingly  answers  their  plea  for  sto- 

VOL.  II. —  9 


130  THE   CROWTII  OF  CONFLICT, 

ries,  he  is  pleased  with  their  sports  ;  to  him  they  bring 
their  toys,  and  it  may  be  that  hands  that  were  trained 
to  tools  often  repaired  or  fabricated  these  treasures  of 
little  children.  On  his  knee  they  must  often  have  sat, 
and,  as  evening  drew  on,  many  a  sweet  face  lay  asleep 
on  his  bosom. 

Such  things  must  have  been.  If  a  lighted  candle 
be  brought  into  a  room,  we  know  that  light  streams 
from  it.  Lilies  bring  perfume,  and  spices  exhale  odors, 
from  their  very  nature.  The  whole  character  of  Jesus, 
when  closely  examined,  is  one  that  must  have  filled 
any  dwelling  where  he  came  with  gladness  and  com- 
fort. Whatever  instructions  fell  from  his  lips  would 
have  in  them  the  sympathy  of  the  hour  and  mood  that 
ruled  in  the  family.  He  sorrowed  with  those  in  sor- 
row, counselled  with  those  in  trouble,  shone  brightly 
among  those  that  were  happy,  was  gay  and  frolicsome 
with  children,  and  touched  human  nature  on  all  its 
sides,  bathing  it  in  his  own  divine  light,  —  the  grandest 
man,  the  gentlest  god,  that  ever  dwelt  among  men. 

Only  one  home  that  opened  to  Jesus  has  left  its 
name  to  us.  It  was  at  Bethany,  on  the  eastern  slope 
of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  about  two  miles  from  Jerusa- 
lem, —  the  house  of  Lazarus  and  his  sisters  Martha 
and  Mary.  Bethany  still  exists  as  a  mean  hamlet  of 
twenty  families.  The  Bethany  of  the  universal  Chris- 
tian heart  lives  only  in  imagination.  In  the  olden 
times,  before  the  trees  had  been  sheared  off  fioni  the 
face  of  Palestine,  it  must  have  stood  imbosomed  amidst 
almond,  olive,  oak,  fig,  and  sycamore  trees.  The  seclu- 
sion of  a  quiet  home  so  near  to  the  city  was  not  the 
chief  attraction.  When  John  would  designate  Bethany 
so  that  it  might  be  identified,  he  calls  it  "  the  town 


■IliijP 


THE   GROWril  OF  CONFLICT.  131 

of  Martha  and  her  sister  Mary."  Lazarus  has  a  title 
which  can  never  be  surpassed.  When  in  his  sickness 
the  sisters  would  call  Jesus,  they  did  not  name  their 
brother,  but  sent  word  that  "  he  whom  thou  lovest  is 
sick."  This  is  not  the  language  of  casual  friendship. 
Jesus's  heart  took  strong  hold,  and  nourished  itself  in 
its  pilgrimage  with  the  love  of  those  congenial.  It  is 
useless  to  speculate  upon  the  development  of  affection 
in  such  a  nature  as  his.  It  would,  of  course,  have  that 
tenderness  with  which  parents  regard  children,  so  far 
below  them  in  intelligence  and  affection  ;  but  there  was 
also  real  companionship.  His  intimate  friends  loved 
him  a.3  a  superior,  but  it  was  none  the  less  an  affection 
which  implied  a  certain  social  parallelism,  if  not  equal- 
ity. He  was  not  content  to  be  superior.  True  love 
has  always  an  attraction  upward.  Jesus  sought  in  his 
most  sacred  friendships  to  lift  his  friends  up  to  the 
realm  in  which  his  heart  dwelt.  His  lanii-uaa-e  is  em- 
phatic  on  that  point.  /  have  called  you  friends  ;  for  all 
things  that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father  I  have  made  hiown 
unto  you.  It  was  a  love  full  of  confidences.  Without 
ostentation  or  egotism,  he  was  always  seeking  to  im- 
part to  them  his  own  spiritual  consciousness.  If  we 
consider  how  impossible  it  was  for  most  of  his  attend- 
ants to  rise  to  an  harmonious  sympathy,  there  must 
have  been,  over  and  over  again,  the  scene  of  Trans- 
figuration on  a  domestic  scale,  —  Jesus  in  converse  with 
them  above  their  reach,  appearing  to  them  something 
glorious,  but  inexplicable;  a  radiant  vision  which  cast 
them  down  to  the  ground  in  helpless  bewilderment, 
and  yet  withal  a  glimmering  of  truth  and  intermittent 
sympathy. 

The  first  insight  which  we  get  of  the  household   of 


132  THE  GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT. 

Bethany  is  one  that  shows  a  great  familiarity  and  con- 
fidence ah'eady  established.  Two  sisters,  Mary  and 
Martha,  appear.  Martha  is  said  to  have  "  received 
him  into  her  house,"  which  would  indicate  that  she  was 
the  elder,  and  that  the  care  of  the  household  was 
mainly  in  her  hands.  The  only  event  disclosed  was  a 
domestic  complaint  on  the  jjart  of  Martha  that  her  sister 
left  the  whole  care  of  the  household  upon  her.  For 
Mary  seems  to  have  been  drawn  to  an  intimate  sympa- 
thy with  the  spirit  of  Jesns,  and  drank  in  every  word 
that  he  spoke.  When  he  appeared  all  was  forgotten, 
and  her  place  was  at  his  feet,  where  she  might  catch 
every  word  and  every  phase  of  countenance  by  which 
it  was  in  part  expressed.  Martha  w^as  without  doubt 
a  pattern  housekeeper,  methodical,  energetic,  and  al- 
ways stirring.  Both  loved  Jesus.  Mary  showed  her 
affection  in  silent  sympathy  with  his  soul-thoughts. 
Martha  showed  her  affection  by  an  anxious  care  for  his 
bodily  comfort.  Thus  one  was  drawn  to  his  spirit,  and 
the  other  to  his  person.  Martha  corresponds  to  Mat- 
thew, and  Mary  to  John.^  Martha,  distracted  with 
much  care  and  service,  sees  only  idleness  in  Mary. 
She  may  be  easily  imagined  as  saying,  "  I  like  to  see 
people  do  something.  Listening  and  thinking  may  all 
be  very  well ;  but  when  there  is  company  in  the  house, 
and  a  hundred  things  to  do,  one  has  no  patience  with 
that  kind  of  affection  which  Avon't  put  a  hand  to  a 
single  thing,  but  makes  it  up  by  sitting  and  gazing." 
These  thoughts  grew  hot,  and  being  plain  and  decided, 

*  The  Gospel  of  Matthew  was  anciently  called  tlie  Bodily  Gospel,  as  de- 
scribing Christ  in  his  ontward  life  and  actions.  The  Gospel  of  John  was 
the  Gospel  of  the  Spirit,  as  chiefly  concerned  with  Christ's  thoughts  and 
feelintis. 


THE  GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT.  133 

and  evidently  so  well  acquainted  with  Jesus  as  to  feel 
little  restraint,  she  says,  "  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care 
that  my  sister  hath  left  me  to  serve  alone  ?  bid  her 
therefore  that  she  help  me."  Jesus  declares  that  Mar- 
tha was  inwardly  anxious,  and  outwardly  bustling  and 
officious  about  superfluous  preparations.  Martha,  Mar- 
tha, thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  manu  thintjH.  He 
then  affirms,  in  effect,  that  he  who  has  comfort  of 
soul,  who  has  risen  into  communion  with  divine  things, 
has  that  one  grand  fountain  from  which  all  satisfaction 
flows.  But  one  thing  is  needful  is  a  more  remote  way  of 
saying,  Seek  ye  first  the  Jdngdom  of  God  and  his  righteous- 
ness, and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you.  But  one 
thing  is  needful ;  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  paH,  which 
shall  not  he  tali  en  aivay  from.  her. 

Mary's  choice  included  a  life  by  the  spirit,  a  per- 
sonal love  of  Jesus,  and  faith  by  it.  It  reached, 
whether  consciously  or  not,  to  the  whole  realm  of  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven.  Martha,  too,  in  a  lower  and 
imperfect  way,  loved,  and  sought  the  Divine  will. 
Hers  was  the  offering  of  love  through  deeds  of  kind- 
ness. Mary,  too,  without  doubt,  expressed  her  love 
by  deeds.  But,  in  a  general  way,  one  represents  a 
life  which  enriches  the  world  by  the  outshining  of  the 
soul  in  thoughts  and  radiant  emotions ;  the  other  a 
life  which  serves  by  practical  utilities,  by  a  ministra- 
tion to  secular  comfort.  The  highest  ideal  is  reached 
in  a  union  of  both.  But  while  neither  can  spare  the 
other,  they  are  not  equals.  The  soul  is  still  regent, 
the  body  servant.  The  civilization  of  the  human  race 
requires  ample  material  force  and  substance,  but  all 
civilization  reaches  away  from  the  visible  and  sensuous 
toward  the  invisible   and   spiritual  ;   as  a  tree   throws 


134  THE  aiiOWTII  OF  CONFLICT. 

out  blossoms  upon  its  highest  and  outermost  boughs, 
lurthest  removed  from  its  earth-root,  though  still 
vitally  connected  with  it. 

Jesus  from  the  beginning  had  sought  to  redeem 
i-eligion  from  a  routine  of  mere  external  practices 
into  the  condition  of  a  mental  experience,  and  in  this 
way  to  elevate  practical  life  by  developing  the  soul  and 
giving  it  predominance.  But  in  the  last  days  of  his 
life,  during  the  period  which  we  are  now  considering, 
this  rational  and  spiritual  element  was  made  to  bear 
with  continuous  and  special  force  upon  the  genius  of 
Pharisaism.  His  discourses  carried  up  the  spiritual 
element  into  its  most  exalted  form  ;  his  parables,  even 
more  beautiful  and  apt  than  before,  boi-e  with  the  ut- 
most directness  against  those  tendencies  on  which  the 
Pharisees  greatly  prided  themselves.  And,  nltliough 
he  never  sought  a  personal  altercation,  or  developed 
a  combative  temper  or  an  irritable  controversial  spirit, 
yet  his  whole  personal  influence,  his  expositions  and 
illustrations,  his  very  atmosphere,  moved  against  the 
superficial  and  false  view  of  religion  of  which  the 
Pharisees  were  the  exponents  and  exemplars.  As 
time  went  on  Jesus  did  not  content  himself  with 
opposing  the  ideas  which  underlaid  Pharisaism,  but 
assailed  themselves,  as  men  banded  together  for 
wickedness  under  the  guise  of  rigorous  piety.  He 
stripped  off  their  veils,  exposed  the  falseness  of  their 
principles,  the  corruptness  of  their  private  lives,  which, 
in  Jerusalem  and  among  the  Temple  ring,  was  very 
great.  Thus  as  the  days  drew  on,  Jesus,  while  pru- 
dently avoiding  arrest  or  a  precipitation  of  the  final 
issue  through  any  sudden  outburst,  and  reserving  for 
himself  a  condemnation  by  the  highest  tribunal  of  the 


THE   GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT.  135 

nation,  grew  constantly  more  specific  and  direct  in  his 
arraignment  of  the  nation's  religious  leaders.  To  this 
period  belongs  the  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan, 
which,  perhaps,  next  to  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son,  has  passed  into  universal  currency. 

The  parables  of  Jesus  were  not  born  in  the  closet, 
and  brought  forth  like  perfected  poems  to  do  their 
work.  They  sprang  into  being  suddenly.  They  were 
creatures  of  life,  born  of  the  actual  events  then  taking 
place.  Beautiful  of  themselves,  as  luminous  moral 
fictions,  their  force  is  far  greater  when  we  perceive 
their  illustrative  fitness.  The  parable  of  the  Good 
Samaritan  arose  out  of  a  discussion. 

Besides  the  violent  and  vituperative  method  of  the 
Temple  rulers,  Jesus  was  subjected  lo  every  trial  of 
skill  which  is  usual  among  an  acute  and  inquisitive 
set  of  intellectual  men.  There  were  men  there,  as 
there  always  have  been,  who  had  their  intellectual 
puzzles,  their  nice  traps,  adroitly  laid,  into  which  they 
would  draw  an  antagonist.  In  such  cases  nothing  is 
more  common  than  to  begin  with  a  semblance  of  so- 
briety and  even  of  simplicity,  and  to  lead  an  unwary 
antagonist  to  the  point  where  the  noose  should  catch 
him.  One  of  these  keen,  dry  lawyers  (that  is,  a  scribe 
with  special  functions)  stood  up  meekly,  and  inquired 
of  Jesus,  "  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life  ?  "  As  it  reads  in  our  day  no  question  could  have 
been  more  proper  and  important.  And  yet  it  is  evi- 
dent that  this  question,  at  that  time,  was  in  some  way 
a  test  question ;  for  it  is  expressly  said  that  the  law- 
yer "  stood  up  and  tempted  Jiim''  It  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  a  malicious  and  entangling  purpose.  He  pro- 
poses to  try  his  skill,  to  puzzle  him,  and  gratify  his 


loG  THE   GROWTH  OF   CONFLICT, 

own  vanity  in  a  word-victory.  But  what  the  trap 
was  which  was  set  by  this  question  does  not  appear. 

Instead  of  attempting  an  answer,  which  would  lay 
him  open  in  some  way,  Jesus,  taking  advantage  of  the 
fact  that  this  man  was  a  lawyer  and  teacher,  to  whom 
the  whole  law  must  be  familiar,  evaded  the  snare, 
whatever  it  w^as,  by  asking  the  lawyer.  What  is  tvniten 
in  the  Imv?  How  readest  thou?  There  is  double  force 
in  this.  It  brought  the  question  out  of  the  dialectics 
of  the  schools  into  the  court  of  Moses's  law,  and  it 
made  the  lawyer  the  respondent,  so  that  he  lost  the 
initiative.  The  whole  thing  is  like  a  flash.  The 
attacking  party  is  now  on  the  defence. 

Answered  on  the  ground  of  the  Mosaic  law,  there 
could  be  but  one  reply  ;  for  the  marrow  and  substance 
of  the  law  was,  by  consent  of  all,  contained  in  the 
words,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength, 
and  with  all  thy  mind ;  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself" 

These  words,  except  the  last  clause,  were  written 
upon  the  phylacteries  of  the  Jews,  and  were  recited 
night  and  morning.  Jesus  replied,  Thou  hast  answered 
rhjht :  this  do,  and  Ihon  shalt  live.  That  the  assailant  felt 
that  his  sword  had  been  flung  from  his  grasp  by  the 
simplest  turn  of  his  tmtagonist's  hand,  is  evident,  and 
though  commended  by  the  law,  he  was  likely  to  be 
laughed  at  by  his  conn\ades,  and  "  willing  to  justify  him- 
self," to  extricate  himself  he  reopens  the  case.  Andivho 
is  my  neiffhhor  ?  This  is  peculiarly  a  question  to  delight  a 
conclave  of  Jewish  doctors.  There  would  be  infinite 
negatives,  discriminations,  limitations,  refinements  upon 
refinement,  until  the  poor  question  would  hang  like  an 
insect  wound  up  in  the  myriad  threads  of  a  spider's  web. 


THE   GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT.  137 

Jesus  disdained  all  such  hair-splitting  discussions,  and 
struck  home  to  the  common-sense  and  to  the  common 
feeling  of  humanity  by  a  parable. 

The  parable  will  admit  of  no  paraphrase.  It  is  per- 
fect as  a  crystal.^  Jericho  was  by  the  rabbinical 
writers  called  a  priestly  city,  because  here  dwelt  great 
numbers  of  priests  and  Levites,  who  went  to  the  Tem- 
ple in  their  regular  turns,  and  then  came  back  to  their 
homes.  This  road  was  so  noted  for  robberies  as  to  be 
called  the  Bloodij  Way.  Fear,  however,  was  not  the 
chief  motive  for  neglecting  the  duties  of  humanity. 
This  half-dead  man  was  no  relation  to  them,  did  not 
belong  to  their  class  or  profession.  Religion  had  de- 
generated in  the  hands  of  its  ministers,  and  had  lost 
humanity.  That  a  Samaritan,  whose  very  name  w\as  a 
term  of  odium  to  a  Jew,  should  be  represented  as 
enacting  in  a  noble  spirit  the  duties  of  humanity  which 
the  most  sacred  men  among  the  Jews  had  shirked  in  a 
cowardly  manner,  was  a  piercing  rebuke  to  Pharisaic 
narrowness.     There  was  no  escape  from  this  parable. 

We  have  seen  how  often  Jesus  was  himself  engrossed 
in  prayer.     To  all  who  hold  the  invalidity  of  prayer,  ex- 


1  "  A  certain  man  went  down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  and  fell  among 
thieves,  which  stripped  him  of  his  raiment,  and  wounded  him,  and  departed, 
leaving  him  half  dead.  And  by  chance  there  came  down  a  certain  priest 
that  way ;  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  passed  by  on  the  other  side.  And 
likewise  a  Levite,  when  he  was  at  the  place,  came  and  looked  on  him,  and 
passed  by  on  the  other  side.  But  a  certain  Samaritan,  as  he  journeyed, 
came  where  be  was  :  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  had  compassion  on  him,  and 
went  to  him,  and  bound  up  his  wounds,  pouring  in  oil  and  wine,  and  sat  him 
on  his  own  beast,  and  brought  him  to  an  inn,  and  took  care  of  him.  And 
on  the  morrow,  when  he  departed,  he  took  out  two  pence  and  gave  them 
to  the  host,  and  said  unto  him,  Take  care  of  him;  and  whatsoever  thou 
spendest  more,  when  I  come  again  I  will  repay  thee.  Which  now  of  these 
three,  thinkest  thou,  was  neighbor  unto  him  that  fell  among  the  thieves  % " 


138  THE   GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT. 

cept  by  reflex  moral  influence  upon  him  who  utters  it 
the  teachings  of  Jesus  must  seem  an  infatuation  of  fa- 
naticism. He  inculcated  this  duty  with  special  urgency. 
And  he  teaches  unequivocally  that  men  may  rise  to 
such  intensity  and  fervor  of  prayer  as  to  act  directly 
upon  the  heart  of  God.  Two  parables  about  this  period 
illustrate  this  view  of  prayer.  One  is  that  of  the  man 
roused  at  midnight  by  a  neighbor  asking  to  borrow 
bread  for  an  unexpected  guest.  At  first  he  refuses  to 
disturb  his  family.  But  the  importunity  continues ; 
and  at  leno-th,  to  s:et  rid  of  him  and  to  save  further 
solicitation,  he  yields  his  request.  And  I  say  unto  ?/on, 
ask  and  yc  shall  recm'e.  .  .  .  If  ye  heiug  eiil  know  how  fo 
give  good  gifts  to  yonr  cJdldrcn,  how  much  more  shall  your 
heavenly  Fattier  give  iJie  Holy  Spirit  to  tJieni  ttiat  ask  him. 

The  other  was  the  parable  of  the  Widow  and  the 
Unjust  Judge.  She  demanded  redress.  He  a  lawless 
and  unprincipled  man,  refused  to  vindicate  her  rights. 
She  presses  her  suit.  At  length  he  consents  to  have 
justice  done  to  her,  "  lest  by  her  continual  coming  she 
weary  me."  And  stmll  not  God  avenge  his  own  elect  that  cry 
day  and  nigJd  unto  turn  ? 

If  there  is  a  way  by  which  unprincipled  selfishness 
will  do  the  work  of  kindness  and  justice,  how  much 
more  will  absolute  and  infinite  goodness  yield  to  the 
solicitation  of  earnest  want !  If  men  who  do  not  love 
kindness  can  by  prayer  be  made  kind,  how  much  more 
wiU  one  who  loves  it  intensely  be  inclined  to  it  upon 
earnest  prayer !  The  teaching  of  Jesus  is  peculiarly 
significant  as  to  the  power  of  men  to  affect  the  Divine 
mind.  The  questions  which  in  our  day  have  arisen  as 
to  natural  law,  and  the  invariable  regularity  of  cause 
and  effect,  were  unknown  to  the  age  in  which  Jesus 


THE   ailOWTlI   OF  CONFLICT.  139 

lived,  and  were  not  only  not  recognized  by  him,  but 
his  doctrine,  taught  througli  his  whole  ministry  and 
under  many  different  forms  with  peculiar  pressure  and 
fervor,  was  that  God  delights  in  a  pleading  heart,  that 
he  loves  importunity,  that  by  vehement  and  continual 
prayer  men  may  obtain  from  God  results  which  other- 
wise would  not  have  happened.    . 

Jesus  did  not  mark  the  limits  of  prayer,  nor  ana- 
lyze its  mode  of  operation,  nor  show  its  relation  to  the 
continuity  of  natural  laws,  nor  in  any  w^ise  establish  a 
philosophy  of  prayer.  He  announced  the  broad  truth 
that  God  is  accessible  to  men's  cries,  and  that  he  has 
the  power  and  the  disposition  to  answer  prayer.  He 
left  it  to  experience  to  find  out  the  metes  and  bounds 
of  this  power.  Whatever  earthly  natural  laws  there 
may  be,  there  are  natural  laws  of  God's  heart  also, 
which  philosophy  does  not  reach,  but  faith  reveals. 

The  Seventy  sent  out  to  preach,  returned  about  this 
time  to  make  report  of  their  success.  The  scene  must 
have  been  remarkable,  thoug;h  it  is  o-iven  in  but  a  sino-le 
line.  Their  mission  had  been  successful.  Their  en- 
thusiasm was  high,  and  they  were  full  of  exultation. 
They  "returned  again  with  joy."  The  fact  that  they 
had  power  to  exorcise  demons  seems  to  have  been  one 
of  peculiar  surprise  and  gladness.  ''Even  the  devils 
are  subject  to  us  through  tliy  name."  The  Seventy 
were  too  much  elated  by  their  success,  and  were  in 
danger  of  spiritual  conceit.  Jesus  enjoins  them  to  re- 
joice, not  that  spirits  were  subject  to  them,  but  that 
they  were  in  their  own  selves  transformed  to  heavenly 
dispositions,  and  their  names  written  in  heaven. 

But  the  most  striking  feature  of  this  interview  is  its 
effect  upon  Jesus.     There  seemed  to  appear  suddenly 


140  THE   GROWTH  OF   CONFLICT. 

to  his  mind  the  whole  mighty  conflict  of  good  and  evil 
in  this  world.  Aflir  off  he  discerned  the  end  of  evil, 
the  triumph  of  good.  Ihchcld  Satan  as  lif/hfuinf/  fall  from 
heairu.  Caught  up  into  the  sphere  of  coining  glory,  in 
that  hour  Jcsii-s  rrjokrd  in  ,y>lr(t.  Ilis  soul  kindled  to  sub- 
lime prayer.  I  thanJc  thee,  0  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  that  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  zvise  and  j)riident 
and  hast  revealed  them  vnto  labes.  The  kingdom  of  the  Di- 
vine Spirit,  the  power  of  the  enfranchised  soul,  the  whole 
mystery  of  victorious  weakness  in  finally  subduing  the 
passions  of  men  and  becoming  the  grand  forces  of  the 
universe,  stood  clearly  before  him. 

He  was  surrounded  by  enemies,  in  the  midst  of 
daily  conflicts,  and  every  day  was  one  step  toward  the 
cross ;  jet  for  a  moment  it  was  given  him  to  see  his 
own  supremacy.  All  things  are  given  to  me  of  the  Father. 
He  was  for  the  hour  lifted  above  limitation  and  humili- 
ation into  the  full  consciousness  of  his  Divine  relations. 
No  man  Jcnoireth  ivho  the  Son  is  hut  the  Father,  and  who  the 
Father  is  hut  the  Son  and  he  to  ivhom  the  Son  vill  reveal  him. 
This  was  an  hour  of  sublime  sovereignty !  Filled  with 
the  scene,  he  would  fain  draw  his  disciples  up  into 
some  participation  Avitli  him.  He  seems  to  have  sat 
as  one  in  a  vision.  He  roused  and  rose  up,  turned  him- 
self to  his  disciples,  and  said  privatel//,  as  one  who  speaks 
confidentially,  with  that  affectionate  personality  with 
which  one  discloses  heart-secrets.  Blessed  arc  the  eyes 
which  see  the  thlugs  that  ye  see  I  They  saw  as  through  a 
glass  darkly  that  which  to  the  Master's  soul  filled  the 
universe. 

These  joyful  hours  were  needed.  Jesus  was  an 
exile.  The  atmosphere  was  murky  with  evil  passions. 
His  soul  sustained  all  that  were  his  companions,  but  no 


THE  GROWTH  OF   CONFLICT.  141 

one  could  sustain  him.  The  constant  lifting  up  of  his 
language  into  a  vagueness  which  comes  from  its  eleva- 
tion, into  reo-ions  of  thought  unfamiliar  to  the  human 
soul,  his  continual  falling  back  upon  his  relationship 
with  God,  the  essential  unity  of  his  soul  with  his 
Father's,  betokens  a  certain  lonesomeness.  These  oc- 
casional hours  of  transcendent  vision  interpret  the 
declaration,  "Who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before 
him,  endured  the  cross,  despising  [not  caring  for]  the 
shame." 

The  Feast  of  Dedication  came  and  found  Jesus  still 
in  and  about  Jerusalem.  Whether  he  confined  his 
labors  to  the  city  and  its  immediate  neighborhood  be- 
tween the  two  feasts,  —  Tabernacles  and  Dedication,  — 
we  have  no  means  of  knowing.  There  is  absolutely  no 
continuous  historic  line  given  by  his  disciples.  Memo- 
rable events  spring  into  view,  striking  parables  or  frag- 
ments of  discourse,  but  the  groundwork  on  which  they 
stand  is  hidden  from  view.  We  trace  his  life,  not  in  a 
linear  series,  but  in  groupSo  We  see  the  clusters  of 
fruit,  but  the  vine  on  which  it  grew  is  seen  only  here 
and  there. 

When  the  Feast  of  Dedication  brought  throngs  to  the 
Temple,  Jesus  was  seen  among  them,  walking  in  the 
arcade  on  the  east  side  of  the  grand  (juadrangle.  We 
see  the  people  gathering  about  him.  We  see  the  dis- 
turbed condition  of  men's  minds.  Opinions  fluctuated. 
To-day  he  was  believed  in  fervently ;  to-morrow  came 
reaction,  uncertainty,  and  retrocession.  Men  were  in 
a  painful  suspense.  They  wanted  either  to  have  the 
charm  broken,  or  their  faith  established.  But  while  a 
few  were  thus  painfully  oscillating,  they  were  put  for- 
ward by  others  who  had  malicious  purposes.     We  can 


142  THE   ailOWTTI  OF   CONFLICT. 

imagine  them  in  fluctuating  council  and  discussion. 
Some,  feeling  the  mystic  power  of  Jesus's  nature,  and 
inwardly  in  sympathy  with  his  spirit,  warmed  toward 
him  and  defended  him.  It  was  the  logic  of  the  heart 
tliat  convinced  lliem.  But  others  would  say.  He  trifles 
with  us.  How  easy  for  him,  if  he  is  what  he  pretends, 
to  make  it  clear  to  every  one.  Is  the  Messiah  so  feeble 
that  he  cannot  make  himself  known  ?  What,  then,  can 
such  an  one  do  for  the  kingdom  ?  Let  him  cease  hid- 
ing himself  behind  mysterious  speeches  !  And  so  they 
came  to  him.  "  How  long  dost  thou  make  us  to  doubt? 
If  thou  be  the  Christ,  tell  us  plainly."  Jesus  replies,  I 
have  told  you  that  I  was,  and  you  would  not  believe 
me.  There  is  no  need  of  words,  for  ihc  irorkx  that  I  do 
in  mf/  Fathers  name,  thet)  hear  witness  of  me.  He  then  ad- 
vances again,  as  often  before,  the  imei-ring  certainty  of 
real  moral  afhnities.  Ye  believe  not,  because  //e  are  not  of 
my  sheep.  Mij  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  hiow  them,,  and  I 
give  unto  them  eternal  life.  As  a  candle  borrows  its  flame 
from  some  flame,  so  human  souls  kindle  immortality  at 
the  heart  of  God.  The  greatest  gifts  of  God  are  not  to 
be  taken  with  the  hand,  but  by  the  heart.  They  are 
received  by  an  appropriating  sensibility. 

Logic  enforces  intellectual  truth  upon  men  as  a 
graver's  hand  cuts  the  picture  upon  a  plate  without  re- 
irard  to  its  condition.  But  moral  convictions  of  the 
highest  kind  are  irresistible  intuitions,  and  belief  is  de- 
veloped as  a  picture  is  upon  a  photographic  plate  by 
the  inherent  sensibility  of  the  plate  to  the  light  that 
falls  upon  it.  Only  when  God  has  inspired  the  soul  till 
the  love  of  purity,  truth,  justice,  goodness,  moral  beauty, 
are  spontaneous,  can  one  have  personal  f)roof  of  Di- 
vinity.    It  is  the  Divine  reality  in  us  that  assures  us  of 


THE   GROWTH  OF   CONFLICT.  143 

the  Divine  reality  without  us.  Jesus  declares  in  effect 
that  only  a  few  were  qualified  to  receive  him.  The 
majority  were  too  coarse  and  evil.  His  light  fell  upon 
their  darkness  and  was  quenched.  But  those  whose 
souls  received  illumination  should  never  doubt.  No 
compelling  logic  and  no  seducing  scepticism  should  ever 
move  them.  No  man  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  inij  Fa- 
ther s  hand.  I  AND  my  Father  are  one.  This  language 
was  divine  or  it  was  blasphemous.  The  Jews  w.ere 
stung  by  it  to  sudden  rage  as  an  atrocious  blasphemy, 
and  "  they  took  up  stones  to  stone  him."  The  supply 
of  stones  in  the  Temple  seems  to  have  been  ample. 
Every  nook  and  corner  probably  had  its  stone  waiting 
occasions  for  use.  Jesus  so  bore  himself  that  the  pur- 
pose for  a  moment  hung  fire.  That  face  before  which, 
later,  the  soldiers  fell  back  to  the  ground  had  power  to 
hold  in  check  those  upon  whom  it  was  turned  in  full 
earnest.  Mann  good  works  have  I  shoived  you  from  mjj 
Father  :  for  ivhich  of  those  ivorks  do  ye  stone  me?  His  ene- 
mies reply  promptly  that  it  was  not  for  his  miracles, 
but  for  the  audacious  blasphemy.  "Because  that  thou, 
being  a  man,  makest  thyself  God  !  " 

Jesus  did  not  deny  that  their  interpretation  of  his 
meaning  and  claim  was  correct.  But  out  of  their  own 
sacred  books  he  exposed  the  absurdity  of  their  rage. 
Men  and  magistrates  are  called  '*'  gods."  But  if  you 
tolerate  such  language  toward  men,  even  by  courtesy, 
how  unreasonable  to  be  enraged  with  me,  hecause  I  said 
I  am  the  Son  of  God.  He  again  declares  that  his  works 
were  a  divine  testimony  to  his  heavenly  origin.  If 
they  were  too  rude  to  feel  sympathy  with  his  personal 
presence  and  feeling,  then  his  works  should  convince 
them :  the  Father  is  in  me  and  I  in  him.     This  kindled 


144  THE   GROWTH  OF  CONFLICT. 

again  their  anger.  They  rushed  forward  to  seize  him, 
'•but  he  escaped  out  of  their  hand,"  and  left  them  to 
burn  or  to  cool  at  their  leisure. 

Jesus  was  not  safe  any  longer.  The  offence  was 
deep.  He  left  Jerusalem.  Though  it  was  winter,  it 
was  not  the  frozen  winter  of  Lebanon  or  of  Hernion, 
but  the  tropical  winter  of  the  valley  of  the  Jordan. 
He  doubtless  went  by  the  way  of  Jericho  to  the  fords 
of  the  Jordan,  and  crossed  over  into  Pera3a,  into  the 
neighborhood  where  John  had  begun  his  ministry,  — 
Bethabara,  or  more  properly  Betlian}^,  beyond  the 
Jordan.  It  was  not  only  a  place  of  security  that  he 
sought,  but  a  new  field  of  labor,  until  his  how  should 
come.  Never  was  he  less  inclined  to  rest.  He  soon 
developed  around  him  a  new  interest,  —  some  believing 
and  some  opposing.  As  it  was  within  the  sphere  of 
John's  earliest  ministry,  it  is  not  strange  that  his  pres- 
ence should  revive  the  memory  of  John,  and  bring  to 
mind  the  prophecies  which  he  uttered  concerning  the 
Anointed  One  who  was  to  come  after  him.  And  many 
said,  "  All  things  that  John  spake  of  this  man  were 
true."     "  And  many  believed  on  him  there." 


SUPPLEMENT. 


CHAPTERS    XXVI.    TO   XXXII.    ARE   COMPILED 
EROM    MR.    BEECHER'S    SERMONS. 

See  Preface  to  Vol.  II. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

RAISING  LAZARUS  —  WAYSIDE   SERMONS. 

From  the  obscurity  of  the  desert  to  which  he  had 
resorted  that  he  might  for  a  time  escape  the  fury  of 
his  enemies,  Jesus  again  emerges  at  the  call  of  suffer- 
ing friendship  and  love.  Through  the  door  of  a  great 
family  sorrow  he  comes  back  to  face  his  enemies  and 
gain  one  of  his  greatest  victories. 

In  its  revelations  of  himself  the  raising  of  Lazarus 
from  the  dead  was  like  a  second  Mountain  of  Trans- 
figuration, on  which  Jesus  stands  clothed  in  his  divine 
glory,  —  not  this  time  simply  before  the  eyes  of  a  trio 
of  his  favorite  disciples,  but  in  the  presence  of  all  his 
disciples  and  before  his  enemies  as  well ;  and  not  this 
time  in  the  glory  of  one  withdrawn  in  heavenly  con- 
templation, but  of  one  bearing  our  sorrows  and  carry- 
ing our  griefs,  and  enlisted  in  the  great  battle  of  our 
redemption.  It  was  the  culmination  of  the  revela- 
tion of  his  divine  power  over  the  dead,  than  which 
nothing  greater  had  ever  been  displayed,  than  which 
nothing  greater  ever  will  be  displayed  until  the  resur- 
rection at  the  last  day,  when  all  that  are  in  their  graves 
shall  hear  his  voice  and  shall  come  forth,  —  and  of  the 
Divine  sympathy  that  is  responsive  to  the  tears  that 
are  shed  around  him,  even  while  knowing  that  deliv- 
erance is  at  hand. 

VOL.  II.  —  10 


146  JiAISING  LAZARUS. 

Ill  the  peaceful  security  of  the  wiklerness,  the  mes- 
senger dispatched  in  haste  by  Mary  and  Martha,  coming 
to  him  brings  Avord,  "  Lord,  behold,  he  whom  thoi: 
lovest  is  sick."  Urgent  as  was  the  message  it  did  nor 
hurry  Jesus.  Instead  of  hastening,  he  lingered,  and 
tlien,  after  two  days  wasted  in  delay,  astonished  his 
disciples  by  the  announcement,  "  Let  us  go  into  Juda\a 
again."  They  were  fully  aware  of  the  danger  that 
threatened  in  Judaea,  and  that  to  avoid  this  very  danger 
Jesus  had  sought  an  asylum  in  the  peaceful  wilderness 
beyond  Jordan. 

Had  Christ,  under  the  impulse  of  a  tender,  loving 
anxiety,  hastened  back  to  Bethany  immediately  on 
hearing  of  Lazarus's  sickness,  that  would  not  have 
seemed  so  strange,  —  for  love  which  seeks  to  save  its 
beloved  will  face  any  peril ;  but  to  linger  until  the 
hope  of  curing  is  gone,  and  then,  when  it  can  benefit  no 
one,  to  needlessly  invite  that  peril  whicli  had  barely 
been  avoided,  that  seemed  to  the  bewildered  disciples 
the  height  of  folly.  "  Master,  the  Jews  of  late  sought 
to  stone  thee;  and  goest  thou  thither  again  ? "  But 
Jesus  proposed  to  work  one  of  the  most  striking  of  his 
miracles.  He  knew  then  that  Lazarus  was  dead  and 
beyond  the  aid  of  any  earthly  physician.  He  had 
waited  purposely  for  that  end,  that  he  might  open  the 
eyes  of  his  disciples,  who  even  then  had  but  the 
faintest  conception  of  himself  and  his  ministry. 

"Lazarus  is  dead.  And  I  am  glad  for  your  sakes  that 
I  was  not  there,  to  the  intent  ye  may  believe ;  never- 
theless let  us  go  unto  him."  In  heroic  despair  Thomas 
turns  to  his  fellow- disciples.  "  Let  us  also  go,  that  we 
may  die  with  him."  The  road  was  a  rough  and  hilly 
one,  and  the  journey  on  foot  was  slow.    What  with  the 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  147 

two  days*  delay  before  setting  out,  and  the  slow  march 
upward  from  the  valley,  Lazarus  had  died  and  been 
four  days  buried.  As  Jesus  approached  the  sorrowful 
home  word  was  sent  ahead  that  he  was  coming,  and 
Martha  hastened  out  to  meet  him.  Her  impatient, 
bustling  nature  found  relief  in  action.  She  could  not 
sit  still.  She  must  be  doing.  Meeting  him  some  little 
way  from  the  town,  she  greets  him  half  in  reproach  and 
half  in  supplication  :  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here 
my  brother  had  not  died.  But  I  know  that  even  now, 
whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee." 
Jesus's  declaration  that  he  whom  she  mourned  should 
rise  again,  brought  her  but  little  present  comfort,  for 
she  saw  in  it  nothing  more  than  the  promise  of  a  final 
resurrection  at  the  last  day.  She  was  too  eminently 
practical  to  see  any  hidden  meaning  in  Jesus's  mystical 
words.  With  Mary  it  was  different.  She  dwelt  more  in 
the  realms  of  thoug:ht  and  imao-ination  and  less  in  the 
fields  of  action.  Wrapped  in  mournful  contemplation 
she  thought  of  the  loving  brother  gone,  and  of  the  Mas- 
ter all-powerful  to  cure,  absent ;  for  she  evidently  had 
not  then  heard  of  his  coming.  Jesus,  not  seeing  Mary, 
asks  for  her.  Martha,  the  ever  busy,  hastens  back,  calls 
her  sister,  and  tells  her  of  the  Master's  presence  and 
wish  to  see  her.  She,  rising  quickly,  with  the  mourn- 
ers who  had  come  to  comfort  her,  goes  out  to  meet 
Jesus.  He  had  remained  without  the  town,  waiting 
where  Martha  had  left  him.  With  the  same  res^retful 
greeting  Mary  meets  him  :  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here  my  brother  had  not  died." 

The  utter  wretchedness  of  these  whom  he  loved,  the 
sympathetic  tears  of  the  surrounding  friends,  deeply 
moved  the  Master,  and  for  the  moment  overwhelmed. 


148  RAFSTNG  LAZARUS. 

he  too  wept.  At  his  request  they  take  him  to  the  sep. 
iilchre,  a  cave  in  the  soft  hniestone  rock,  —  one  of  the 
many  which  abounded,  and  which  were  largely  used  at 
that  time  for  burials.  For  door,  a  bowlder  resting  in 
its  mouth.  Jesus  orders  the  stone  to  be  removed,  when 
impulsive  Martha  characteristically  breaks  in  with  her 
expostulation.  For  four  days  the  body  had  lain  in  the 
grave,  and  now  had  become  offensive.  ,  lie  reminds  her 
of  his  promise  "  that,  if  thou  wouldest  believe,  thou 
shouldcst  see  the  glory  of  God." 

Probably  not  even  the  disciples  suspected  that  Jesus 
was  moved  by  any  other  intent  than  to  look  once 
more  upon  the  form  of  him  he  had  loved.  Though 
they  had  seen  many  wonderful  sights,  had  witnessed 
many  miracles,  yet  no  one  seemed  to  suspect  that  after 
such  a  lapse  of  time,  when  the  tics  that  bind  together 
the  component  elements  of  the  human  body  had  been 
loosened,  and  when  what  Avas  once  an  animate  being 
full  of  life,  of  thought,  and  of  activity,  was  rapidly  re- 
solving itself  into  inanimate  dust,  that  then  Jesus 
could  arrest  the  devouring  decay,  roll  back  its  wasting 
march,  re-collect  the  lleeing  elements,  and  bring  them 
trooping  back  each  to  its  proper  place  and  duty,  —  as 
soldiers  scattered  in  defeat,  rall3'ing  at  the  voice  of  a 
trusted  and  beloved  general,  hastening  to  form  again, 
stand  once  more  a  compact  and  disciplined  army. 

The  stone  is  rolled  away,  the  grave  is  open,  when 
lo !  obedient  to  the  Master's  voice,  he  that  had  been 
dead  came  forth,  bound  in  the  vestment  of  the  grave, 
still  helpless,  until  freed  from  the  binding  graveclothes. 

We  can  imagine  the  outburst  of  joy  and  gratitude 
from  the  family  so  miraculously  reunited,  —  the  aw'e 
and  amazement  of  the  friends  and  even  of  the  disciples 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  149 

when  Lazarus  walked  in  among  them  again,  well  and 
strong  as  thougli  he  had  but  just  awakened  from  a  re- 
freshing sleep.  The  narrative  leaves  wholly  to  the 
imagination  what  was  said,  what  they  did,  whether 
Jesus  went  home  with  them,  and  if  so  how  many  days 
he  remained.  On  these  interesting  questions  no  light 
is  thrown. 

The  effect  of  this  miracle  upon  the  spectators  was 
widely  different.  Many,  convinced  that  nothing  less 
than  Divinity  could  have  wrought  such  a  miracle,  be- 
lieved on  him.  But  some  there  were  whose  hearts 
had  not  been  touched,  that  hastened  to  tell  the  Phari- 
sees of  Jesus's  return,  and  of  this  last  and  most  wonder- 
ful exhibition  of  his  power.  That  miracle  precipitated 
the  whole  matter.  It  was  the  work  of  beneficence  that 
brou(>-ht  to  a  culmination  the  determination  of  the  tern- 
plars  that  he  should  perish. 

A  council  was  speedily  called.  Stringent  measures 
must  be  taken,  and  at  once.  "  If  we  let  liim  thus 
alone,  all  men  will  believe  on  him,  and  the  Rotnans 
shall  come  and  take  away  both  our  place  and  nation." 

Now  they  went  to  work  with  a  definite  and  settled 
purpose.  He  must  be  caught  and  put  to  death.  Here- 
tofore they  had  sought  his  life  only  in  some  outburst  of 
passion,  but  now  they  were  thoroughly  alarmed,  and 
after  a  careful  consultation  had  formed  a  fixed  and 
deliberate  judgment.  The  danger  was  too  imminent 
to  be  disregarded.  But  his  time  had  not.  yet  come. 
He  was  not  ready  to  precipitate  the  final  tragedy.  He 
therefore  avoided  openly  showing  himself,  and  soon 
left  the  neighborhood  of  Jerusalem  and  departed  unto 
a  city  called  Ephraim  in  the  country  nigh  to  the  wil- 
derness.     He  soon,  however,  returns   to   the  familiar 


150  RAISING  LAZARUS. 

valley  of  the  Jordan,  and  travelling  from  place  to  place 
"he  taught  tlieni  again,  and  healed  them  there." 

Although  the  narrative  is  brief,  he  must  have  spent 
consideral)le  time  upon  this  journey,  slowly  reapproach- 
ing  Jerusalem.  It  was  then  that  some  one  asked  him, 
"Lord,  are  there  few  that  be  saved?"  Where  it  was, 
who  asked  him,  what  led  up  to  the  question,  is  not 
stated  in  the  context.  It  was  one  of  those  many  inci- 
dents, so  often  occurring  in  the  sacred  history,  where 
all  the  surroundings  that  would  have  added  a  dra- 
matic interest  are  wanting,  and  separate,  detached  inci- 
dents are  strung  together  like  pearls  upon  a  necklace, 
—  each  wholly  disconnected  from  its  fellow,  yet  each  a 
statement  of  some  important  truth  or  fact. 

We  cannot  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Jesus's  answer 
except  we  go  back  and  see  exactly  to  what  purpose 
our  Saviour  uttered  it ;  for  if  we  interpret  the  an- 
sw^er  through  the  medium  of  a  gloomy  theology,  we 
shall  falsify  it.  If  we  interpret  it  through  a  mysti- 
fying psychology,  we  shall  falsify  it.  Although  the 
Jewish  system  developed  the  most  profound  yearning 
in  men's  souls,  yet  in  its  decadence,  and  in  regard 
to  the  great  mass  of  the  common  people,  not  endowed 
with  moral  genius,  it  came  to  be  a  mere  system  of 
externalities,  that  left  out  the  chief  purpose  of  life. 
There  was  no  trouble  during  our  Saviour's  time  in  his 
gaining  an  audience  ;  certainly  not  after  he  began  to 
work  miracles  signally,  and  that  most  welcome  of  all 
his  miracles,  enough  to  eat  for  those  who  attended  his 
preaching.  He  became  very  attractive ;  and  there 
were  multitudes  of  men  who  shed  tears,  and  a  great 
many  men  that  admired  the  apposlteness  of  his  illus- 
trations,  the    singular   clarity  of   his    parables,    what 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  151 

might  be  called  the  adroitness  of  his  controversial 
replies.  His  eminence,  his  indivi(hiality,  all  that 
belonged  to  him  and  to  his  atmosphere,  were  very 
winninsT ;  there  were  not  onlv  twelve  willinif;  to  be- 
come  his  disciples  and  follow  him,  but  there  were 
twelve  thousand  that  would  have  followed  him  if  he 
had  let  them,  in  tliose  moments  of  inspiration,  just  such 
as  one  feels  occasionally,  when  some  particular  view 
of  a  nobler  way  of  living  comes  to  one,  —  evanescent 
moments  of  sight  and  outsight,  upsight  and  beyond- 
sight. 

There  was  no  trouble  in  his  gaining  the  wish  and 
the  will  of  the  common  people,  but  their  acquaintance 
was  as  the  earlv  dew  and  the  mornina:  cloud.  It  came 
like  a  flash  and  went  like  a  flash.  Men  went  back 
after  his  instruction  to  deeds  of  sacrifice  in  the  temple, 
- —  the  priesl  to  pray  for  us  and  pronounce  us  clean  by 
reason  of  thi  that,  and  the  other  remedy.  We  have 
kept  the  law,  and  we  are  doing  very  well  ;  God  is 
under  obligation  to  take  care  of  us.  So  they  went  on, 
living  low,  selfish,  and  often  vulgar  and  wicked  lives, 
but  yet  feeling  that  they  were  safely  within  the  pale 
of  God's  covenants,  and  that  there  was  no  need  of  very 
much  change  in  them.  Therefore,  one  of  the  great  and 
prime  necessities  of  our  Saviour's  teaching  was  to  pro- 
duce a  conviction  among  men  that  religion  was  some- 
thing a  thousand  times  deeper  tlian  they  had  any  idea 
of;  it  meant  manhood  regenerated,  reconstructed;  it 
meant  man  striving  after  the  highest  ideal  and  in  the 
atmosphere  of  divine  power,  which  was  indispensably 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  carry  out  his  wish  and  his 
purposes.  So  he  discouraged  men  from  thinking 
that  religion  was  easy.     They  thought  it  was  too  easy. 


152  RAISING  LAZARUS. 

It  was  all  so  easy  that  there  was  no  responsibility,  and 
had  in  it  no  incitement.  To  them  religion  bore  about 
the  same  relation  that  the  multiplication-table  does 
in  the  fool's  mind  as  compared  with  Newton's  Prin- 
cipia,  or  the  higher  developments  of  mathematics.  If 
a  man  can  rattle  off  the  multiplication-table  he  thinks 
he  is  a  mathematician.  If  a  man  can  say  the  alphabet 
he  thinks  he  is  a  literary  man.  The  Jews  at  that  time 
around  about  the  Saviour  had  a  smattering  of  religious 
things,  and  they  felt  as  though  they  were  good  enough 
just  as  they  were.  The  great  mass  of  the  common 
people  to  whom  Christ  came  were  already  superficially 
contented  j  that  is,  they  thought  they  were  getting  on 
well,  and  "  AVhat  lack  I  yet  ?  "  was  their  conceited 
feeling.  Therefore,  when  it  was  asked,  "  Are  there 
few  that  be  saved  ?  "  our  Saviour  said,  "Strive  !  What 
I  mean  by  religion  requires  strife.  You  cannot  sail 
into  it,  nor  happen  into  it,  nor  dream  and  wake  up 
and  find  it  realized.  It  requires  all  the  energy  of  the 
whole  life." 

A  little  later,  when  the  mnltitudes  thronged  around 
him  anxious  to  be  his  followers  and  lead  his  life,  he 
again  brings  to  their  minds  the  serious  nature  of  the 
life  they  so  thoughtlessly  would  follow,  and  impresses 
upon  them  by  forceful  parables  that  he  is  not  to  be 
followed  merely  from  a  blind  impulse,  but  only  as  the 
result  of  a  careful,  deliberate  judgment,  or  an  earnest 
desire  to  seek  the  truths  which  he  had  come  to  teach. 

"  And  there  went  great  multitudes  with  him ;  and 
he  turned  and  said  unto  them,  If  any  man  come  unto 
me,  and  hate  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and 
children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own 
life  also,  he  cannot  be   my  disciple.      And  whosoever 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  153 

doth  not  bear  his  cross,  and  come  after  me,  cannot  be 
my  disciple.  For  which  of  you,  intending  to  build  a 
tower,  sitteth  not  down  first  and  counteth  the  cost, 
whether  he  have  sufficient  to  finish  it?  Lest  haply, 
after  he  hath  laid  the  foundation,  and  is  not  able  to 
finish  it,  all  that  behold  it  begin  to  mock  him,  saying, 
'  This  man  began  to  build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish.'  " 

Never  was  there  before,  and  never  has  there  been 
since,  we  apprehend,  such  a  speech  made  to  would-be 
disciples.  To  understand  it,  we  must  carry  ourselves 
back  in  imagination  to  the  time  and  place,  consid- 
ering the  situation  in  which  Jesus  was  speaking,  and 
what  he  was  after,  and  then  consider  the  habits  of 
speech  that  he  indulged  in ;  for  he  was  the  least  literal 
man  who  ever  taught. 

There  never  was  an  idea  more  void  and  foolish  than 
the  idea  that  Jesus  in  his  style  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion, was  simple  and  literal.  His  style  was  the  most 
profound  and  difficult  to  be  understood  that  ever  ex- 
pressed itself  in  words  that  originally  were  framed 
to  express  physical  ideas.  So  it  has  come  to  pass 
that  as  civilization  has  gone  up,  and  we  need  new 
words  to  express  gradations  of  developing  feelings,  we 
are  compelled  to  give  secondary  meanings ;  and  so  in  a 
long  line  the  same  words  express  not  simple  differing 
sliades  of  a  primitive  feeling,  but  frequently  reverse 
them,  and  come  to  express  very  different,  or  even  op- 
posite ones. 

Now,  he  expressed  the  profoundest  elevations  of 
spiritual  truth  ;  and  when  his  thoughts  were  running 
along  the  far-distant  unfoldings  of  human  character,  and 
also  of  the  truths  that  reign  celestially,  what  trouble 
must  he  have  had  for  words  that  would  be  windows 


154  RAISING  LAZARifi^. 

through  which  the  generation  that  lived  then  could  see 
anything.  Tlie  consequence  was  that  metaphor,  para- 
ble, exaggeration  were  obliged  to  take  the  place  of 
simple  language.  For  intense  feeling  must  exaggerate. 
It  is  not  enough  that  tone  and  emphasis  arc  given  to  r. 
word.  All  creation  comes  to  him  that  has  intellect, 
imagination,  and  intensity,  and  seeks  to  express  the 
hidden  treasure  of  his  soul.  And  Jesus,  the  simplest, 
the  truest,  in  one  sense,  the  most  intense  and  exagger- 
ating, in  another  sense,  has  set  us  an  example  of  this 
whole  procedure. 

He  was  about  to  leave  the  north  of  Palestine.  His 
mission  there  was  pretty  much  fulfilled.  He  had  turned 
his  face  southward,  and  was  on  his  final  journey  toward 
Jerusalem,  where  he  was  to  suffer  many  things,  and  be 
crucified.  On  the  whole  he  was  very  much  discour- 
aged with  his  ministry.  It  culminated  in  the  feeding 
of  the  five  thousand  upon  the  northern  shore  of  Galilee, 
when  they  were  so  struck  with  the  unquestionable 
miracle  of  multiplying  the  loaf  that  they  determined  to 
make  him  their  king,  to  hold  the  reins  of  government, 
to  drive  out  the  Roman,  and  to  establish  the  prophetic 
kingdom ;  and  they  meant  that  he  should  be  their 
king.  But  he  refused ;  and  the  impression  produced 
upon  them  was  that  he  stirred  them  up  to  the  point  of 
accomplishing,  and  then  like  a  craven  backed  down 
and  would  not  go  forward.  So  it  was  at  that  time  that 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  very  much  abated  ;  and 
when  he  returned  to  the  western  shore  he  was  beset 
by  the  scribes  and  the  priests,  and  was  abandoned  by 
the  people,  —  so  much  so  that  it  seemed  as  though  he 
needed  rest  and  encouragement;  and  he  took  his 
journey  to  the  North,  on  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon, 


BAISING  LAZARUS.  155 

into  the  moLintainons  region,  and  would  that  no  man 
should  know  that  he  was  there,  and  refused,  or  sought 
to  refuse,  to  engage  in  the  work  of  miracles  or  in 
works  of  mercy  there.  He  was  transfigured,  as  it 
were.  He  was  lifted  up  in  heavenly  vision,  above  the 
physical  and  sensuous,  and  his  whole  soul  was  renewed 
and  brightened  again,  preparatory  to  the  last  steps  of 
his  earthly  ministry.  He  had  come  down  from  the 
mountain  ;  and  although  he  needed  rest  and  encour- 
agement, his  face  was  turned  for  the  last  time  toward 
Jerusalem.  The  crowd  began  again  to  throng  around 
him,  and  were  eager  not  only  to  follow  him  but  to  be- 
come his  disciples. 

The  most  extraordinary  thing  that  strikes  one  in 
Jesus's  address  to  them  is  that  it  is  the  lanfjuaore  of  one 
who  was  supposed  to  be  seeking  to  build  up  a  party. 
He  had  excited  universal  interest.  Men  were  not  only 
inquisitive,  but  their  curiosity  had  become  morbidly 
strong.  He  could  go  nowhere  that  the  village  or 
town  or  city  did  not  pour  Ibrth  its  multitude.  And  if 
he  were  a  partisan,  if  he  had  a  new  church  to  found,  a 
new  kingdom  to  establish,  this  was  a  very  strange  wel- 
come to  those  who  were  coming  toward  him  and  to 
him.  Not  only  that,  but  considering  it  in  its  relation 
to  entering  upon  a  Christlike  life,  upon  a  religious 
course,  was  there  ever  such  a  discouragement,  as  it 
stood,  and  as  it  stands  ?  Usually  men  are  supposed  to 
think  that  there  are  obstacles  enough  in  their  way. 
At  any  rate,  men  have  a  strife  against  their  own  feel- 
ings, against  many  insidious  and  cunning  temptations ; 
and  our  Saviour  himself  declared  that  the  way  to  eter- 
nal life  was  narrow  and  very  steep  and  extremely  diffi- 
cult.    Was  it,  then,  necessary  to  carry  language  to  such 


156  RAISING  LAZARUS. 

an  extent  as  to  say,  "  Unless  a  man  hate  his  father  and 
his  mother  and  his  wife  and  his  sister  and  his  brother 
and  his  child  and  himself  also,  he  shall  not  be  my  dis- 
ciple "  ?  What  is  a  man  after  he  has  dropped  off  all  his 
affections?  What  is  there  left  for  di.scipleship  ?  What 
is  a  man  worth  that  has  been  taught  by  some  fanati- 
cism to  hate  his  father  and  his  mother?  Is  that  a  part 
of  the  new  faith  ?  Is  that  the  best  disclosure  of  this 
princely  religion  which  men  are  so  fond  of  talking 
about?  No.  So  far  as  the  immediate  application  of 
this  language  to  those  who  were  following  him  was 
concerned,  we  are  to  take  into  consideration  that  they 
were  following  under  a  wrong  impulse.  They  were 
men  who  were  not  religious-minded,  and  not  at  all  pur- 
posed to  be  religious-minded.  For  the  most  part,  that 
was  not  the  thing  for  which  they  followed  Christ. 
They  supposed  —  and  his  miracles  largely  confirmed 
the  impression  —  that  a  grand  good  time  was  coming 
in  which  all  men  would  enjoy  themselves.  They  were 
going  to  keep  their  sins ;  they  were  going  to  keep 
their  feuds ;  they  were  going  to  keep  their  little  quar- 
rels ;  bread  was  going  to  be  plenty ;  there  was  to  be 
good  living  for  every  one  ;  their  enemies  were  going  to 
be  smitten  down  ;  they  were  going  to  have  a  gloriously 
good  time ;  they  were  going  to  be  men  and  swine  in- 
differently, as  they  Iiad  been  before;  and  Christ  was 
going  to  lead.  What  they  were  after  was  the  loaves 
and  the  miracles.  It  was  not  Christ  that  they  sought 
when  they  were  following  Christ,  but  their  own  self. 
Self-indulgence,  in  a  larger  sphere,  ministered  by  Divine 
power,  in  a  miraculous  way ;  the  gratification  of  their 
vanity  by  victories  over  their  adversaries ;  and  various 
malign  feelings,  —  these  entered  largely  into  the  com- 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  157 

position.  Some  came  because  they  were  sick,  and  they' 
knew  be  could  bcal  tbem.  Otbers  came  because  they 
were  bUnd,  or  their  children,  or  their  friends,  and 
they  knew  he  could  cure  blindness.  Still  others  came 
because  they  were  hungry,  and  they  knew  he  could 
feed  them.  They  ran  after  him  simply  for  food.  They 
followed  him  as  sparrows  follow  a  grain-cart  that  the 
particles  of  wheat  and  barley  which  fall  out  of  it  here 
and  there  shall  furnish  them  with  something'  to  eat. 

Such  was  the  poverty  of  the  time  that  one  good 
hearty  meal  was  a  great  thing  in  a  man's  estimation. 
That  was  the  period  in  which  the  Lord's  Prayer  was 
made,  one  of  the  most  important,  one  of  the  pivotal 
petitions  of  which  is,  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily 
bread."  We  never  utter  the  Lord's  Prayer  with  a  sense 
of  its  original  import.  We  never  come  near  enough  to 
starvation  for  that.  The  passage  "  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread "  has  little  application  to  those  who 
have  bread  enough  for  years  ahead.  But  there  was  a 
time  when  whole  peoples  well-nigh  starved ;  and  then 
it  was  that  the  Lord's  Prayer  put  the  staff  into  the 
hand  of  want  and  hunger. 

So  there  were  a  great  many  who  followed  Jesus  be- 
cause he  fed  them.  Then  there  were  a  great  many 
who  followed  him  because  they  thought  he  was  going 
to  establish  an  earthly  kingdom.  There  were  also  a 
great  many  who  followed  him  because  everybody  fol- 
lowed him.  Everybody  was  going  to  see  and  to  hear, 
and  therefore  they  went  to  see  and  to  hear.  But  few, 
if  any,  followed  him  because  they  wanted  to  be  trans- 
formed in  their  nature.  Everybody  wanted  to  be  his 
disciple,  but  nobody  wanted  to  be  his  inside  disciple, — 
they   were   all    outsiders.      Jesus   therefore   sought    to 


158  HArSIMJ  LAZARUS. 

make  them  understand  that  religion  was  deep ;  that  it 
meant  something  more  than  adhering  to  a  routine  of 
observances,  or  following  a  school,  or  becoming  the 
disciple  of  a  worker  of  miracles ;  that  it  was  a  trans- 
formation that  went  clear  down  to  the  depths  of  their 
being,  and  brought  them  into  a  condition  in  which 
everything  that  was  in  them  would  be  on  the  side  of 
spiritual  purity. 

This  was  not  an  attempt,  then,  to  show  that  religion 
is  intrinsically  difficult,  it  was  rather  to  show  that  it  is 
intrinsically  profound,  —  that  it  means  something.  It 
is  not  church-joining ;  it  is  not  creed-building.  It  is 
man-revolutionizing.  It  is  a  total  change  of  the  cur- 
rents, the  purposes,  the  aspirations,  of  a  man's  life.  It 
is  living,  not  by  the  eye,  not  by  the  ear,  not  by  sense, 
but  by  faith,  by  the  vision  of  truth,  of  purity,  of  love, 
of  fidelity,  of  godliness.  It  is  living  above  the  earth, 
and  in  the  presence  of  God ;  and  for  that  sake  a  man 
should  sacrifice  everything. 

It  is  more  than  likely  that  Jesus  explained  his  mean- 
ing more  fully  at  this  time  than  appears  in  the  narrative. 
It  is  not  at  all  probable  that  any  memorandum  was 
made  at  the  time  by  any  of  the  disciples.  And  when 
at  last  the  sacred  narrative  was  put  in  writing,  it  was 
many  years  after  the  events  it  recorded, —  the  writer 
giving  only  here  and  there  some  brief  remarks,  some 
sio-nificant  event  or  circumstance    that   had   remained 

o 

indelibly  fixed  in  his  memory  ;  so  that  what  might  be 
called  the  context,  the  surrounding  details,  is  generally 
wanting. 

It  is  evident  that  his  hearers  did  not  understand  that 
they  had  been  repulsed,  but  rather  had  been  warned 
that  following  Jesus  was  not  a  holiday  excursion,  but 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  159 

a  sober,  serious  matter.  Yet  with  all  the  apparent 
severity  of  liis  warning,  he  must  have  uttered  words 
of  hope  that  appealed  to  many  hearts  about  him,  that 
let  new  light  into  the  souls  of  many  whose  lives  had 
been  nothing  but  dark  till  then.  Those  who  felt  the 
need  of  God's  love  most  seemed  drawn  the  nearer  to 
him;  for  the  publicans  and  sinners  —  the  two  classes  of 
mankind  that  comprehended  all  that  was  lowest  and 
most  despised  in  the  eyes  of  the  Pharisees  and  scribes 
—  drew  near  to  him  to  listen  to  his  words.  He  re- 
ceived them  as  a  part  of  his  congregation,  and  doubtless 
opened  their  eyes  to  their  sins  and  encouraged  them 
toward  reformation.  He  mingled  with  them,  and 
even  ate  with  them.  Of  course  the  self-righteous 
Pharisee  was  shocked  at  this  and  raised  his  hands  in 
holy  horror.  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners  and  eateth 
with  them."  He  answered  them  in  the  parables  of  the 
Lost  Sheep,  the  Lost  Coin,  and  the  Prodigal  Son,  and 
when  they  derided  him  he  turned  on  them  with  the 
scathing  rebuke,  "  Ye  are  they  which  justify  yourselves 
before  men  ;  but  God  knoweth  your  hearts  ;  for  that 
which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men  is  abomination 
in  the  sight  of  God,"  and  added  further  significance  to 
his  rebuke  by  the  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus. 

Turning  from  the  Pharisees,  who  seemed  willing  after 
this  pointed  rebuke  to  let  the  discussion  drop,  Jesus 
addresses  his  disciples  in  one  of  those  compressed  ser- 
mons that  so  often  appear  in  the  Gospels,  —  teaching 
them  to  extend  that  forgiveness  which  they  themselves 
so  often  needed. 

There  was  a  certain  moral  sense  in  the  disciples,  as 
there  is  in  all  men,  before  which  this  injunction  of  the 
Saviour   came  with    approbation.     They  felt   that   he 


160  liAISING  LAZARUS. 

taught  them  the  right  thing.  And  yet,  the  moment 
they  undertook  to  think  about  it,  as  a  principal  thing 
in  themselves,  they  began  to  say,  "  How  can  we  for- 
give ? "  They  thought  of  this  one,  and  that  one,  and 
the  other  one ;  they  recalled  all  their  little  animosities 
and  prejudices  and  dislikes ;  and  though  they  were  on 
the  point  of  saying  to  themselves,  "  Well,  I  will  obey," 
the  thing  itself  seemed  so  impossible  that  their  courage 
sank  down,  and  they  said  inwardly,  "  We  cannot  do 
it."  And  they  turned  instinctively  to  the  Master,  and 
said,  "  Increase  our  power  of  doing  this ; "  that  is, 
"Increase  our  faith;"  by  which  is  here  to  be  under- 
stood that  whole  spiritual  and  eminent  realm  of  power 
out  of  which  comes  the  potency  by  which  we  change 
our  nature,  as  we  shall  see  by  and  by. 

Equally  strange  seems  the  answer :  "  If  ye  had  ^aith 
as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  ye  might  say  unto  this 
sycamine-tree.  Be  thou  plucked  up  by  the  root,  and  be 
thou  planted  in  the  sea ;  and  it  should  obey  you."  In 
answering  this  request,  in  dealing  with  the  state  of 
mind  out  of  which  this  request  grew  —  namely,  moral 
despondency,  the  want  of  courage  to  imdertake  what 
was  required  —  Christ  said,  "  I  command  you  to  forgive 
utterly  and  continuously  ;  and  do  you  say, '  I  never  can 
do  it ;  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  do  it '  ?  And  do  you 
ask  me  to  increase  your  faith  ?  I  tell  you  there  is  not 
only  power  in  you  to  do  it,  but  there  is  in  you  a  power 
so  great  that  you  can  make  a  total  change."  Or,  in 
other  words,  "  If  ye  had  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed —  if  you  had  the  least  particle  of  faith  —  you 
could  do  a  thing  that  seems  as  impossible  as  to  com- 
mand that  sycamine-tree  to  be  rooted  up  and  cast 
into  the  sea." 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  161 

As  we  read  the  context  the  whole  passage  seems, 
together  with  the  answer  of  the  Master,  to  be  obscure. 
He  had  been  saying,  "  It  were  better  "  for  a  man  "  that 
a  millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  he  cast 
into  the  sea,  than  that  he  should  offend  one  of  these 
Uttle  ones.  Take  heed  to  yourselves :  if  thy  brother 
trespass  against  thee  seven  times  in  a  day,  and  seven 
times  in  a  day  turn  again  to  thee,  saying,  I  repent, 
thou  shalt  forgive  him."  It  was  after  this  discourse 
that  *'the  apostles  said  unto  the  Lord,  Increase  our 
faith,"  and  he  replied,  "  If  ye  had  faith  as  a  grain  of 
mustard-seed,  ye  might  say  unto  this  sycamine-tree, 
Be  thou  plucked  up  by  the  root,  and  be  thou  planted 
in  the  sea;  and  it  should  obey  you." 

This  was  figurative  language;  and  it  was  very 
powerful,  being  built  upon  the  oriental  imagination. 
Men  at  that  time  were  more  accustomed  to  such  things 
than  we  are. 

It  does  not  seem  as  if  he  encouraged  them.  It  does 
not  seem  as  if  he  granted  their  request,  or  told  them 
how  they  could  improve.  He  seems,  rather,  to  have 
rebuked  them  by  calling  to  mind  how  little  faith 
they  had,  which  they  themselves  knew,  as  was  shown 
by  their  making  application  to  him  for  more.  Why 
should  they  have  asked  for  faith  in  connection  with  the 
pecuHar  subject  of  forgiveness,  or  in  connection  with 
the  subject  of  carrying  one's  self  so  as  not  to  voluntarily 
injure  one  of  God's  little  ones,  by  way  of  anger,  or  by 
way  of  implacableness,  seems  at  first  obscure ;  but  it 
will  become  plain  if  you  will  take  the  interior  line  or 
clue  of  the  connection,  and  not  the  exterior. 

Our  Saviour  was  wont  so  to  time,  and  to  word,  and  to 
illustrate  his  instructions,  that  they  struck  the  inward 

VOL.  II. — 11 


102  RAISING  LAZARUS. 

moral  sense  of  his  hearers.  He  was  preaching  to  his 
disciples  the  dut}'  of  overcoming  passions  and  maHg- 
nant  dispositions.  He  was  preaching  to  them  the 
result  of  the  doctrine  of  forgiveness  and  gentleness. 

We  have  had  an  analogous  instance,  when  on  his 
descent  from  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration  he  cast  the 
demon  out  of  a  child. 

It  was  substantially  the  same  thing.  There  Christ 
was  asked  to  do  a  great  mercy,  and  he  said,  "  This  is 
possible  if  you  only  have  faith  enough."  And  the 
father  said,  "  I  have  a  little  ;  but,  oh,  give  me  enough 
to  make  up  what  I  lack."  It  was  the  heart's  outcry. 
That  case  was  more  touching,  but  it  was  strictly  an- 
alogous or  parallel  to  the  present  one,  where  the  dis- 
ciples were  commanded  to  overcome  these  selfish  and 
defective  instincts.  They  saw  that  it  was  beautiful 
and  right,  and  wanted  to  do  it,  but  fell  off  before  it, 
and  said,  "  How  can  we  ? "  and  besought  the  Lord 
to  increase  their  fixith. 

It  is  noticeable  how  seldom  Jesus  taught  from  the 
synagogues  or  even  in  the  towns  and  cities,  except  in 
Jerusalem.  Most  of  his  teachings  were  while  afoot 
he  slowly  travelled  from  town  to  town,  stopping  here 
or  there  to  work  some  miracle,  pausing  in  a  few  in- 
cisive sentences  to  rebuke  the  self-righteous  Pharisee, 
or  expose  the  sophistry  of  the  crafty  scribes,  or,  as  he 
walked,  comforted,  encouraged,  or  instructed  his  dis- 
ciples. But  whether  rebuking,  exposing,  or  instructing 
he  spoke  almost  altogether  in  parables. 

On  this  journey  upward  toward  the  place  of  his 
coming  sacrifice,  the  parables  are  crowded  together, 
the  one  following  close  upon  the  heels  of  another. 
It  was  his  favorite  mode  of  expressing  himself. 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  163 

A  parable  may  be  said  to  be  the  portrait  of  a  moral 
truth.  It  may  not  be  itself  a  direct  enunciation  of  a 
moral  truth,  but  it  is  a  storj',  a  history,  a  novelette 
so  constructed  that  it  resembles  and  brings  to  the 
comprehension  of  men  this  subtle  moral  truth.  A 
parable  is  not  to  be  dissected  and  its  separate  parts 
literalized.  That  destroys  it  in  its  very  nature.  Para- 
bles are  moral  tables.  They  are  picturings,  and  they 
are  to  be  taken  as  pictures  are,  in  their  general 
effects,  and  not  in  their  minute  members.  A  para- 
ble is  a  thino;  to  be  held  off  at  arui's  lens^th  and  to  be 
taken  as  a  whole  picture,  generally  teaching  some  sin- 
gle and  simple  moral  truth.  If  you  go  close  to  it  and 
attempt  to  take  it  apart  and  make  one  part  teach  one 
thing,  and  another  part  another  thing,  it  may  be  that 
the  things  are  true  which  you  desire  to  have  affirmed, 
but  the  parable  is  destroyed.  We  cannot  take  liter- 
ally that  great  parable  of  the  Judgment  of  the  Nations, 
when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  all  his  Father's 
glory  and  holy  angels  with  him,  and  he  shall  sit  upon 
the  throne  of  his  glory,  and  before  him  all  nations  shall 
be  gathered,  and  he  shall  divide  them  as  a  shepherd 
his  goats  from  the  sheep,  and  so  on,  and  then  the  inter- 
locutory conversation.  To  take  any  one  of  these  ele- 
ments and  follow  it  out  as  if  it  were  a  literal  truth 
would  be  insanit}^  These  elements  are  necessary  to 
complete  the  drama,  but  it  is  the  soul  or  substance  of 
the  drama  that  is  the  truth,  and  not  the  auxiliaries 
and  accessories. 

And  the  same  question  comes  up  to  us  that  came  up 
to  the  disciples  :  "  Why  do  you  talk  to  them  in  para- 
bles ?  "  "  Because,  seeing  they  see  not,  hearing  they 
hear  not.     To  you  it  is  given  to  understand  the  mys- 


164  RAISING  LAZARUS. 

tery  of  the  kingdom  of  God ;  to  them  not,  because 
their  eyes  are  blinded,  their  ears  are  deaf,  their  hearts 
are  gross." 

Now,  if  one  take  this  from  the  imperial  side,  as  the 
scholastic  theologians  have  done,  and  understand  that 
this  is  a  part  of  God's  decree,  that  some  men  shall  be 
blind  in  their  eyes  and  deaf  in  their  ears  and  gross  in 
their  hearts,  and  therefore  they  cannot  understand  the 
truth,  he  will  go  the  diameter  of  the  earth  amiss. 
What  it  means  is  very  plain.  Let  an  artist  set  forth 
the  exquisite  beauty  of  tones,  tints,  compositions,  and 
harmony  to  a  gross,  low-browed,  brutal  sort  of  a  man; 
to  him  it  is  not  given  to  see  color,  —  he  cannot  under- 
stand artistic  excellence.  And  so  Jesus  said,  in  effect : 
"  According  to  what  men  are,  will  be  their  understand- 
ing of  the  things  I  teach."  Everybody  —  child,  man, 
pagan.  Christian  —  all  like  a  picture  in  the  shape  of  a 
story.  And  Jesus  threw  his  sermons  into  the  shape  of 
stories;  imaginary  ones,  because  the  imagination  would 
illuminate  them,  and  the  memory  would  hang  them  in 
the  hall,  and  they  would  gradually  unfold  their  mean- 
ing to  men. 

And  then,  beside,  there  were  very  watchful  heresi- 
archs,  then  and  since, — men  with  hounds'  noses,  whose 
business  in  life  is  to  track  out  something  wrong  in  other 
folks  ;  men  banded  together  in  parties  against  a  spirit- 
ual religion,  determined  to  have  a  partisan  religion, 
and  to  cut  off  any  body  that  diminished  their  strength 
and  authority.  The^e  sat  to  hear  in  order  that  they 
might  criticise  and  not  receive.  They  were  all  around 
about  Christ  in  multitudes,  and  this  baffled  them ;  these 
profound  truths  were  enunciated  in  these  exquisite 
parables. 


RAISING  LAZARUS.  '     165 

Christ  in  effect  said,  "  I  will  preach  so  that  while 
they  take  in  one  thing,  the  great  mass  of  mankind  shall 
have  instruction  in  another  thing.  I  will  give  them  a 
picture,  and  they  will  have  to  interpret  it ;  the  inter- 
pretation will  be  theirs,  but  the  teaching  will  be  mine ; 
and  the  humble,  then,  that  are  willing  to  get  at  the 
light  of  truth  can  get  it,  while  those  that  are  captious 
and  want  something  to  condemn,  will  find  their  hands 
slipping  off  when  they  attempt  to  catch  the  preacher. 
They  cannot  go  around  and  say,  'Ah,  do  you  hear 
what  doctrine  he  propounds?'  So  I  adopt  the  para- 
bolic form  of  the  inculcation  of  truths,  and  I  adopt  it  in 
order  that  I  may  maintain  myself  as  a  minister,  and 
help  those  who  are  willing  to  understand,  while  avoid- 
ing the  jaws  of  those  who  are  unwilling  to  under- 
stand." ^  If  this  is  the  substance  of  the  explanation  it 
seems  not  so  inexplicable  nor  so  unreasonable. 

*  For  a  somewhat  similar  account  of  Jesus's  use  of  parables,  see  ante,  Vol. 
I.  pp.  301,  321. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 


THE   YOUNG   EULER. 


After  stopping  in  one  of  the  towns  that  lay  along 
his  route,  either  for  the  night  or  a  noon-tide  rest,  as 
Jesus  was  going  forth  again  upon  the  road,  there  oc- 
curred the  touching  incident  of  the  lich  young  ruler. 

It  is  recorded  by  three  of  the  Evangelists,  Matthew, 
Mark,  and  Luke.  Mark,  above  all  the  others,  gives  the 
dramatic  characteristic  features  of  the  transaction.  He 
alone  speaks  of  this  man's  coming  in  the  road  with 
eagerness  and  haste.  He  does  not  mention  that  he  was 
a  ruler.  That  is  mentioned  in  the  other  Evangelists. 
His  eagerness  was  that  which  took  the  eye  of  Mark. 
The  dramatic  aspect  of  it  rose  up  before  his  mind. 

At  this  time  it  was  not  perilous  to  follow  the  Master. 
Subsequently  in  the  development  of  Christ's  mission 
things  had  taken  such  a  shape  that  men  did  not  much 
care  to  avow  their  discipleship  ;  but  now  enthusiasm 
was  at  its  full,  and  men  on  various  occasions  and  for 
various  ends  were  pressing  around  him  and  in  some 
sense  identifying  themselves  with  him.  This  ruler, 
who  certainly  had,  in  many  respects,  an  admirable 
character,  did  not,  on  account  of  standing,  reputation, 
or  anything  of  that  kind,  scruple  to  come  to  the 
Saviour  as  to  a  prophet,  or  to  a  divinely  inspired 
teacher ;    and  he  came  on  one   of  the  noblest  of  er- 


THE   YOUNG  RULER.  167 

rands.  It  was  not  curiosity  that  drew  him  ;  it  was  not 
merely  a  desire  for  notoriety  ;  still  less  was  it  a  purpose 
to  gain  an  advantage  over  the  Master. 

In  his  eagerness  he  ran  out  into  the  highway  where 
Christ  was  passing,  and  addressed  him  both  reverently 
and  affectionately,  "  Good  Master,  what  good  thing 
shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  "  "  Rabbi  " 
was  the  familiar  title  of  a  Jewish  teacher ;  and  when 
he  called  him  "  Good  Rabbi,"  it  was  a  term  of  endear- 
ment, applied  to  the  supposed  professional  work  of 
Christ. 

There  has  been  much  unnecessary  discussion  as  to 
the  reply  of  Christ,  "  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ?  there 
is  none  good  but  one,  that  is,  God."  It  has  been 
suggested  by  some  that  this  is  one  of  the  tokens  that 
Christ  did  not  assert  his  own  divinity ;  and  it  is  said  by 
others  that  it  is  just  the  other  w\ay,  —  that  in  its  full 
force  it  is  one  of  the  tokens  that  he  did  assert  his 
divinity,  —  that  in  declaring  that  there  was  but  one 
absolutely  perfect  Being,  and  assuming  that  he  was 
joined  to  that  One,  he  was  asserting  that  he  himself 
was  absolutely  perfect.  The  answer,  it  seems  to  us, 
is  neither  the  one  nor  the  other ;  it  had  nothing  to  do 
with  that  point;  it  had  relation  only  to  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  the  condition  of  the  young  ruler,  who  evi- 
dently was  a  man  who  had  set  his  mind  upon  moral 
self-culture,  who  was  honest  and  earnest  in  it,  who  was 
full  of  aspiration,  and  who  had  come  to  a  point  where, 
according  to  the  light  of  the  teaching  which  he  was 
accustomed  to  receive,  he  really  did  not  see  what  other 
thing  he  could  do.  So  he  comes  to  Christ  and  says, 
"  Good  Master,  what  good  thing  shall  I  do  that  I  may 
iuherit  eternal  life?"     Christ,  in  effect,  says  to  him: 


168  THE  YOUNG  RULER. 

"  You  are  taking  your  ideas  of  perfection  from  what 
you  see  about  you.  Your  idea  is  very  limited  and  nar- 
row. If  you  suppose  that  by  doing  any  one  good 
thing,  or  any  series  of  good  things,  you  are  going  to 
make  up  the  deficiency  that  is  in  you,  and  that  then 
you  will  be  perfect,  you  are  very  greatly  mistaken. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  perfection  among  men  ;  there 
are  no  good  men.  Your  ideal  must  be  nothing  short 
of  God  himself.  He  is  the  only  absolutely  good  and 
perfect  being."  Therefore  his  reply  was  in  explana- 
tion of  the  imperfect  conception  which  his  questioner 
had  of  goodness  of  character,  or  personal  attainment, 
and  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  question  of 
Christ's  station,  or  the  question  as  to  whether  he  was 
human  or  divine.  He  said  to  the  man  what  a  Jew 
would  have  said  to  him,  or  what  an  ordinary  teacher 
would  have  said :  "  Thou  knowest  the  command- 
ments ;  if  thou  wouldst  enter  into  eternal  life  keep 
those  commandments."  The  man  said,  "  Which  ?  "  as 
much  as  to  say, "  I  am  not  aware  that  I  need  that  exhor- 
tation ;  but  if  there  is  any  commandment  that  I  have 
neglected,  which  is  it?  "  Jesus  said,  "  Thou  shalt  do  no 
murder ;  thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery ;  thou  shalt 
not  steal ;  thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness ;  defraud 
not ;  honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother ;  and  thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  That  was  an  ortho- 
dox reply ;  it  was  the  reply  which  a  reverent  and  de- 
vout age  would  have  suggested.  And  the  young  man 
said  to  the  Master,  *'  All  these  things  have  I  observed 
and  kept  from  my  youth  up ; "  and  probably  he  said  it 
sincerely  and  truly.  Not  that  he  fulfilled  in  the  inward 
spirit  the  very  ideal  of  every  one  of  these  command- 
ments; but  in  so  far  as  they  could  have  an  external  expo- 


THE  YOUNG  RULER.  169 

sition  in  life,  doubtless  this  young  man,  who  had  made 
character  a  study,  had  fulfilled  them.  He  had  restrained 
his  sinful  impulses  ;  he  had  maintained  himself  within 
the  precincts  of  morality  and  uprightness ;  he  had  been 
both  moral  and  devout ;  and  when  Christ  told  him  to 
keep  the  commandments,  he  replied, "  I  have  kept  them 
not  only,  but  I  never  broke  them.  I  had  a  father  and 
a  mother  that  gave  me  righteous  instruction,  and  I 
did  not  depart  from  it ;  and  from  my  youth  up  I  have 
maintained  an  honorable  and  manly  career  according 
to  the  intent  of  the  commandments  in  so  far  as  I 
understand  them.     Now  what  ?     What  lack  I  yet  ?  " 

There  is  a  touching  sincerity  in  that  question  not 
only,  but  there  is  a  marked  contrast  between  this  man 
and  the  dry  old  Pharisees  that  talked  with  Christ  to 
see  if  they  could  entangle  him.  When  this  man  talked 
it  was  serious  business  ;  it  concerned  himself;  he  had  a 
right  to  meddle  with  it ;  he  felt  deeply  about  it.  His 
desire  to  be  a  good  man  was  so  strong  that  he  made 
haste  to  do  obeisance  to  the  Master,  and  to  ask  him 
for  instruction ;  and  when  the  Master  gave  it  to  him 
he  said,  with  earnestness,  "  I  have  fulfilled  all  that ;  is 
there  anything  else  ?  For,  of  all  things,  I  wish  to  be 
good.  That  has  been  my  purpose  -,  it  is  my  desire ; 
and  I  long  to  know  if  anything  more  is  required  to 
complete  my  conception  of  goodness  in  this  life." 

The  earnestness  of  this  young  man  touched  the  Mas- 
ter. His  soul  went  out  to  him.  "  One  thing  you  lack. 
If  you^will  be  perfect,  if  that  is  what  3'ou  are  aspiring 
to,  if  you  have  a  touch  of  the  heavenly  fire,  and  you 
feel  that  a  right  character  is  more  precious  than  any- 
thing else,  and  if  you  are  willing  to  sacrifice  every- 
thing for  larger  and  nobler  relations  of  true  spiritual 


170  TUE    YOl'XG  RVl.ER. 

manhood,  then  there  is  one  thing  that  3011  must  do  :  if 
thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go  thy  way,  sell  whatever  thou 
hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  slialt  have  treas- 
ure in  heaven ;  and  come,  take  up  the  cross,  and  follow 
me."  It  was  a  love  invitation.  The  eager  desire  of 
the  young  man  drew  from  Christ  this  sympathy.  He 
threw  open  the  doors  of  the  morning  in  his  face,  and 
let  it  shine  like  sunrise  on  the  young  man,  and  loving 
him,  he  let  him  see  that  he  loved  him ;  and  then,  in 
this  hour  of  the  declaration  of  the  soul's  love,  he  said, 
"  Come  and  follow  me ;  be  mine ;  break  all  the  ties 
you  have  formed ;  sever  all  your  relations ;  give  up 
your  property ;  go  sell  everything,  and  come  and  be 
mine."  It  was  the  opening  of  the  harbor  of  the  Sav- 
iour's heart  to  the  young  man  ;  had  he  accepted  that 
love  invitation,  there  would  have  been  one  more  star 
in  the  galaxy  of  heroes  ;  but  it  is  said  that  that  decla- 
ration brought  the  interview  to  an  end. 

The  young  man's  face  fell.  He  wanted  to  be  good, 
but  not  so  good  as  that.  He  wanted  to  know  how  to  se- 
cure eternal  life,  but  within  certain  foregoing  conditions. 
He  wanted  to  seek  that  life,  but  at  the  same  time 
he  wanted  to  maintain  his  official  relations  to  his  peo- 
ple, and  his  personal  relations  to  that  estate  which  gave 
him  power  and  pleasure.  He  was  willing  to  be  moral, 
and  to  do  a  great  deal  for  religion,  but  he  was  not  pre- 
pared to  make  it  the  chief  thing,  the  sole  object  of 
his  life,  and  to  sacrifice  whatever  was  inconsistent  with 
it.  So  "  he  was  sad  at  that  sajdng,  and  w' ent  away 
grieved." 

The  question  arises  at  once,  Was  that  fair  in  the 
.Saviour?  And  the  question  even  goes  further  than 
'that.     Are  we  to  understand  that  the  spirit  of  Chris- 


THE    YOUNG  RULER.  171 

tianity  is  adverse  to  riches,  or  that  it  tends  toward 
the  community  of  goods,  or  toward  what  may  be 
called  the  communistic  principle  upon  the  subject  of 
property  ?  No.  Never  did  lip  utter  severer  reprehen- 
sion of  the  misappropriation  or  misuse  of  property 
than  the  Master's ;  and  yet,  nowhere  does  he  distinctly 
declare  that  the  possession  of  riches  is  sinful  or  incon- 
sistent with  the  higher  range  of  spiritual  life  and 
power.  The  doctrine  of  riches  in  the  Bible  is  a  very 
strong  doctrine ;  but  it  is  very  clear  that  throughout 
the  Old  Testament  the  promised  reward  of  virtue  was 
temporal  prosperity.  The  land  should  bring  forth 
corn ;  wine  should  abound ;  there  should  be  oil  and 
olives  without  measure ;  and  it  was  the  universal  un- 
derstanding of  the  Jew  that  temporal  prosperity  re- 
salted  from  obedience  to  the  commandments  of  God, 
and  that  therefore  it  was  the  doctrine  of  heaven  that 
men  should  have,  and  that  the  having,  if  it  were  rightly 
attained,  was  the  evidence  of  God's  smile  on  them.  It 
would  have  been  impossible  to  overturn  that  doctrine 
without  marked  resistance.  The  attempt  to  do  away 
with  it  would  have  been  a  ground  and  reason  for  tur- 
bulence. The  idea  that  the  possession  of  property 
was  inconsistent  with  the  inheritance  of  the  kiuif-dom 
of  heaven  would  not  have  been  tolerated.  Besides, 
the  disciples  of  Christ  had  property,  and  he  alloAved 
them  to  hold  it  in  early  periods.  Simon  Peter  had  a 
house  near  or  in  Capernaum,  and  Christ  went  there  to 
a  feast.  He  went  to  other  rich  men's  houses  and  par- 
ticipated in  the  festivities  of  their  tables  without  rebuk- 
ing them  for  keeping  their  riches.  Nowhere  that  he 
went  did  he  lay  down  the  law  that  men  should  not  be 
rich.    He  did  not  find  fault  with  the  political  economy  of 


172  THE   YOUNG  RULER. 

men  in  that  respect.  Nay,  he  was  on  his  way  to  Beth- 
any ;  that  was  where  Mary  and  Martha  and  Lazarus 
kept  house  ;  and  they  evidently  had  ample  means ;  and 
he  never  broke  up  the  foundations  of  that  family,  say- 
ing to  Mary,  or  Martha,  or  Lazarus,  "  Part  with  your 
])roperty  and  follow  me."  It  was  not  necessary  that 
they  should  give  up  all  they  had.  Indeed,  in  this  very 
conversation  he  explained  himself 

When  the  young  man  heard  that  he.  went  away 
grieved.  "  And  Jesus  looked  round  about."  "  How 
hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  God  ; "  that  is,  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  the 
disposition,  of  the  higher  life  of  the  soul,  of  the  real 
heights  of  the  inner  being.  The  disciples  were  aston- 
ished at  his  words ;  but  Jesus  answered  again,  and  said 
unto  them,  "  Children,  how  hard  is  it  for  them  that 
trust  in  riches  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 
There  is  the  explanation.  For  them  that  trust  in  riches^ 
that  make  them  their  refuge,  their  pride,  their  glory, 
their  strength  ;  for  them  that  feel  that  their  manhood 
is  based  upon  their  money  or  their  possessions;  for 
them  that  make  property  their  fortress,  their  strong 
tower,  —  for  them  how  hard  is  it  to  enter  the  kingdom 
of  God  !  "  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God." 

Almost  universally  in  that  day  riches  were  held 
selfishly.  The  alms  that  were  given  were  mere  osten- 
tatious matters.  They  were  bargains  with  God  ;  as  if 
men  said,  "  I  will  give  you  so  much  if  you  will  give  me 
so  much.  If  you  will  give  me  heaven  I  will  give  to 
the  poor."  It  was  paying  a  tax  to  God  for  the  promise 
of  bliss  by  and  by.     Otherwise,  they  were  intent  upon 


THE  YOUNG  RULER.  173 

accumulating  property  for  the  purpose  of  selfish  luxury 
or  advantage ;  and  their  minds  were  absorbed  in  ob- 
taining riches.  So  the  poor  and  ignorant  in  the  com- 
munity drifted  into  all  manner  of  vice  and  crime  not 
only,  but  they  were  trodden  under  foot  and  treated  as 
if  they  were  beasts  of  burden.  The  consequence  was 
that  men  dreaded  to  be  poor  and  longed  to  be  rich,  for 
temporal  reasons  almost  entirely. 

Under  those  circumstances  as  a  matter  of  fact,  men 
getting  money  or  using  it  had  their  minds  so  drawn 
away  from  everything  spiritual  that  they  were  buried 
in  the  present ;  for  the  sake  of  money  they  were  ready 
and  even  eager  to  sacrifice  honor,  honesty,  foresight, 
and  veracity.  There  was  nothing  that  they  would  not 
give  up  in  a  moment  if  only  they  were  interested  pe- 
cuniarily to  do  so.  Therefore,  when  Christ  saw  the 
way  of  rich  men,  he  said,  "  If  a  man's  heart  is  set  on 
riches  he  will  be  so  bound  down  by  them  and  by  the 
senses  that  it  will  be  impossible  for  him  to  love  a  higher 
life." 

Of  course  it  does  not  follow  from  this  account  that  the 
young  man  was  lost.  Tt  does  not  follow  that  he  could 
not  reach  the  highest  elements  in  moral  development; 
it  does  not  follow  that  he  went  back  to  a  comparatively 
low  sphere ;  and  it  does  not  follow  that  he  perished. 
He  may  have  done  so ;  but  that  is  not  evident  from 
the  narrative  except  by  a  violent  inference. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 


HEALING     THE     BLIND. 


They  had  now  descended  the  valley  and  were  near 
to  Jericho.  Before  them  but  a  short  distance,  less  than 
twenty  miles,  lay  Jerusalem,  where  in  a  few  days  was  to 
be  enacted  the  closing  scene  of  Christ's  public  mission. 
As  yet  the  disciples  had  no  idea  of  what  was  before 
them.  No  doubt  they  were  apprehensive  of  the  well- 
known  hostility  of  the  rulers,  and  had  an  ill-defined 
fear  that  some  harm  niisj'ht  come  to  Jesus.  But  though 
twice  before  foretold,  they  understood  nothing  of  the 
real  future.  And  even  when  at  this  time  Jesus  took 
them  apart,  and  plainly  foretold  the  different  scenes  of 
the  drama  so  soon  to  be  enacted,  "  they  understood 
none  of  these  things."  So  little  did  they  comprehend 
that,  even  then,  when  the  shadow  of  the  great  dark 
cloud  was  almost  over  them,  they  were  jealously  seek- 
ing preferment  one  over  the  other  in  his  coming  king- 
dom. On  his  last  journey  toward  Jerusalem,  and  while 
they  were  approaching  the  place  of  his  last  suffering, 
there  fell  out  among  his  bosom  disciples  —  and  one 
who  was  involved  in  it  was  absolutely  and  literally 
his  bo.som  disciple  —  a  scene  which  reveals  the  real 
moral  state  of  those  that  were  with  him.  By  turning 
to  the  tenth  chapter  of  Mark,  we  shall  find  that  scene 
recounted  :  "  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee, 
came  unto  him" — another  evangelist  modifies  it  so 


HEALING  TEE  BLIND.  175 

far  as  to  say  that  the  mother  came  bringing  her  two 
sons;  and  she  is  represented  as  having  spoken  to 
Christ,  wliile  here  the  men  themselves  are  repre- 
sented as  speaking  to  him:  both  statements  probably 
being  true,  and  relating  to  the  same  history  —  ^'  James 
and  John  "  —  strange  names,  especially  that  of  John, 
when  we  consider  his  repute  as  the  affectionate,  the 
pure,  the  thoroughly  inspired  disciple,  to  be  involved 
in  such  business  as  this  !  — "  James  and  John,  the 
sons  of  Zebedee,  came  unto  him,  saying,  Master,  Ave 
would  that  thou  shouldest  do  for  us  whatsoever  we 
shall  desire." 

How  true  to  human  nature  !  Men  want  a  religion 
that  will  do  for  them  just  what  they  desire. 

"And  he  said  unto  them.  What  would  ye  that  I 
should  do  for  you  ?  They  said  unto  him,  Grant  unto 
us  that  we  may  sit,  one  on  thy  right  hand,  and  the 
other  on  thy  left  hand,  in  thy  glory." 

This  was  a  confidential  communication  between  these 
office-seekers  and  the  King  that  was  to  be  ! 

"  Jesus  said  unto  them,  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask." 

He  understood  what  they  supposed  his  kingdom  was 
to  be ;  but  the  real  kingdom  was  to  be  a  very  different 
one  ;  and  his  mind  passed  from  the  ignoble  conception 
which  they  had  to  the  larger  one  ;  and  with  a  kind 
of  ineffable  pity  and  sadness  he  said,  "  Can  ye  drink  of 
the  cup  that  I  drink  of?  and  be  baptized  with  the  bap- 
tism that  I  am  baptized  with  ?  " 

They,  simple  and  foolish,  and  with  the  frankness  of 
absolute  ignorance,  jumped  to  answer,  "  We  can." 

"  And  Jesus  said  unto  them.  Ye  shall  indeed  drink 
of  the  cup  that  I  drink  of  ;  and  with  the  baptism  that  T 
am  baptized  withal  shall  ye  be  baptized  ;  but  to  sit  on 


176  HEALING  THE  BLIND. 

my  right  hand  and  on  my  left  hand  is  not  mine  to 
give  ;  but  it  shall  be  given  to  them  for  whom  it  is 
prepared." 

Now,  there  were  ten  other  men  who  wanted  just  this 
office. 

"  When  the  ten  heard  it,  they  began  to  be  much  dis- 
pleased with  James  and  John.  But  Jesus  called  them 
to  him,  and  saith  unto  them.  Ye  know  that  they 
which  are  accounted  to  rule  over  the  Gentiles  exercise 
lordship  over  them ;  and  their  great  ones  exercise  au- 
thority upon  them.  But  so  shall  it  not  be  among  you : 
but  whosoever  will  be  great  among  you,  shall  be  your 
minister,"  — your  waiter ;  "  and  whosoever  of  you  will 
be  chiefest,  shall  be  servant  of  all." 

What  a  singular  insight  this  is  into  the  actual  condi- 
tion of  the  hearts  of  the  best  men  that  Christ  met,  and 
whom  he  had  selected  as  his  own  disciples,  —  ajid  that, 
too,  after  they  had  heard  him  for  two  years  or  more  ! 
On  this  last  solemn  journey  to  his  crucifixion,  and 
under  the  very  shadow  of  the  cross,  two  of  the  disciples 
were  squabbling  as  to  who  should  have  precedence  in 
his  earthly  kingdom ;  and  a  third  was  already  drawing 
near  to  that  temptation  by  which  he  betrayed  his 
Master,  and  gave  him  over  to  death,  —  and  yet  how 
gentle  his  rebuke  ! 

Our  Master  was  not  without  indignation,  at  times 
a  flaming  indignation.  He  had  the  power  of  thunder 
in  his  nature.  But  when  he  saw  the  disciple  band 
committing  crimes  against  the  spiritual  interests  of  his 
kingdom,  compassion,  sorrow,  and  love  were  excited  in 
him,  and  he  called  them  to  him ;  and  with  the  utmost 
gentleness,  saving  their  feelings,  he  opened  up  to  them 
the  real  way  of  the  spirit  of  brotherhood. 


HEALING   THE  BUND.  ^  177 

Passing  through  Jericho,  still  on  the  road  to  Jerusa- 
lem, occurred  the  beautiful  incident  of  the  healing 
of  blind  Bartimeus.  The  scene  was  one  of  wondrous 
interest. 

Emertrino;  from  Jericho  came  the  more  nimble  and 
excitable  part  of  the  people  ;  for  tlie  narrative  shows 
that  there  were  some  who  came  up  to  the  blind  man  in 
advance  of  the  Saviour.  Then  following  were  women 
leading  their  little  children,  and  old  men  making  their 
way  as  best  they  could.  There  was  a  mixed  multitude, 
doubtless,  surging  around  the  Saviour,  and  in  turn  com- 
ing up,  or  dropping  back  to  let  others  come ;  while 
he  came,  patient,  collected,  clear-faced,  with  large  eyes 
that  looked  full  upon  you  ;  not  piercing  or  search- 
ing, as  if  seeking  to  know,  but  with  a  comprehending 
gaze,  as  if  he  included  and  understood  fully  every  one 
that  he  looked  upon,  and  needed  not  that  any  should 
tell  him  what  was  in  man,  —  talking  to  those  about  him, 
never  with  outward  excitement,  but  with  that  deep 
inward  feeling  which  causes  one's  words  to  rebound 
from  your  heart,  fluttering  it  with  strange  excitement 
and  mysterious  feelings. 

By  turns  he  listened  to  questions  and  replied  ;  or  he 
heard  with  a  gentle  attentiveness  the  interchange  of 
words  in  the  crowd  one  with  another,  answering;  mat- 
ters  only  when  referred  to  him.  Now  and  then  some 
event  would  be  seized,  or  some  object  pointed  out,  by 
which  he  would  illustrate  a  truth  so  vividly  that  no 
man  ever  saw  the  fig-tree,  the  stone,  the  flower,  the 
sparrow,  the  city,  or  building  again  without  recalling 
the  truth  for  which  it  had  served  as  a  text.  When  the 
noon  grew  torrid  the  crowd  would  scatter  and  shelter 
themselves.     At  evening,  gathering  again,  they  would 

VOL.  n.  — 12 


178  HEALING    THE  BLIND. 

move  on.  In  this  to  ns  strange  wa}'  our  Saviour  ac- 
complished the  greater  part  of  his  teaching.  He  went 
about  doing  good.  And  along  the  path  of  such  wan- 
derings it  was  that  he  met  the  occasions  for  his  most 
wonderful  miracles. 

It  was  such  a  progress  as  this  that  had  now  just 
begun. 

The  contrast  to  this  picture  could  not  have  been 
thrown  in  more  artistically,  b}^  opposition  of  circum- 
stances, had  the  scene  been  arranged  merely  for  effect ; 
for,  in  truth,  nature  and  life  are  the  true  artists. 

A  blind  man  there  was,  sitting  by  the  wayside.  Oh, 
to  be  blind  !  To  see  no  fiice ;  to  read  no  book  ;  to  be- 
hold no  field,  or  tree,  or  flower ;  to  have  no  morning 
and  no  evening,  but  imbroken  night  forever ;  to  see  no 
coming  spring,  no  changes  in  the  purpling  bark  of  yet 
unleaved  trees  ;  no  sprouting  grass,  no  coming  birds  ; 
to  see  neither  father  nor  mother,  neither  friend  nor 
companion ;  and  oh,  to  lose  the  ineffable  bounty  of 
God  in  little  children,  that  fill  the  eyes  with  such 
delight  that  one  might  for  hours  ask  only  to  wander 
and  gnze  upon  them  ;  to  be  among  those  that  see,  and 
not  to  see  ;  to  be  unable  to  look  when  one  cries,  "  Lo 
here,  lo  there  ! "  to  almost  forget  that  one  cannot 
see,  and  accept  darkness  as  if  it  were  light,  timid  steps 
and  groping,  for  manl}^  walking,  —  this  is  indeed  a 
bitter  thing  ! 

.  But  to  be  blind  and  be  a  beo-orar  ;  to  make  misfor- 
tune  the  capital  of  trnde  ;  to  parade  sightless  eyes ; 
to  sit  with  professional  expectancy  till  the  face  fixes 
itself  to  the  piteous  look  of  mendicancy  ;  to  solicit 
and  o-ather  nothing: ;  to  become  used  to  rebuff  and 
neglect;    to  sit  all    day   by   the   street   or   road,   as   a 


HEALING    THE   BUND.  179 

fisher  by  a  stream  ;  to  cast  angle  for  a  dole,  as  he  his 
bait  for  a  liungry  fish, —  this  is  bitter;  bitterer  yet  if 
the  victim  feels  his  degradation,  and  still  worse  if  he 
does  not ;  for  then  the  man  is  blind  inwardly,  —  he  has 
lost  two  pairs  of  eyes,  the  outward  and  the  inner. 

It  was  such  a  one  that  sat  begging  by  the  Avayside 
near  to  Jericho.  Past  him  there  would  flow  the  double 
stream.  He  had  chosen  his  place  skilfully.  It  was 
where  two  streams  met,  —  the  coming  in  and  the  going 
out  of  the  people,  to  and  from  the  city  \  those  whose 
journey  was  almost  done,  and  who  felt  good-natured  at 
the  prospect  of  soon  reaching  home,  and  those  who 
were  just  going  away,  and  were  lithe  and  fresh  upon 
the  outset  of  their  travel.  No  step  could  fall  and  his 
ear  not  detect  it.  Rendered  acute  by  serving  for  two 
senses,  the  ear  discriminated  whether  it  was  an  old 
man,  by  the  heavy  and  unspringing  tread;  or  midman- 
hood,  by  its  energy  and  haste  ;  or  youth,  by  its  nimble- 
ness  and  waywardness :  whether  the  soft  step  was  a 
maiden's,  or  the  heavy  tramp  a  soldier's. 

To  such  an  ear  there  came  a  sound  which  it  could 
not  miss.  What  was  it  ?  Many  feet,  and  the  murmur- 
ing sound  of  voices.  An  army  ?  Was  there  an  insur- 
rection, then  ?  It  was  not  a  measured  tread  ;  it  was 
no  army.  Was  it  some  procession  of  people  for  relig- 
ious observance  ?  No  festival  day  was  this.  Such 
days  were  too  good  harvests  for  the  blind  man  to  miss 
the  calendar  of  charity.  It  was  a  strange  sound  com- 
ing on  —  drawing  nearer.  He  turned  to  it.  Now 
came  the  clearer  sounds  of  those  that  led  the  crowd. 
Their  voices  grew  near,  and  he  cried  out,  as  they  came, 
asking  what  it  meant.  The  more  affable  of  them  told 
him,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passes  by." 


180  HIIAI.ISG    THE  BLIND. 

WliJit  thing  has  happened  to  him  ?  His  face  grows 
pale.  He  trembles  all  over.  His  hands  begin  to  learn 
a  new  art  oi'  supplication.  What  was  there  in  this 
name,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  that  should  work  such  an 
excitement  as  fills  the  poor  beggar  ?  Ah  !  he  had  heard 
of  him.  Who  had  not  ?  It  was  he  who  had  raised  the 
dying  from  death.  It  was  he  who  had  restored  cripples 
innumerable.  He  had  touched  with  coolness  those 
that  were  parched  with  fevers.  Wherever  he  went 
somebody  got  well.  Whoever  had  ailments,  and  came 
to  Jesus,  was  healed  of  whatsoever  plague  he  had.  The 
news  was  not  sluggish.  Everybody  had  heard  of  it. 
The  very  air  was  full  of  it  He  had  heard  and  pon- 
dered it.  He  had  doubtless  known  that  Christ  had 
put  clay  on  the  eyes  of  a  blind  man  —  a  man  blind 
from  birth  —  and  restored  him  to  sight.  Know  who  it 
was  ?  Indeed  he  did  !  he  had  promised  himself,  no 
doubt,  often,  that  if  ever  he  had  a  chance  there  should 
be  an  opportunity  for  a  new  miracle.  And  now^,  oh, 
unlooked-for  happiness  ;  oh  joyful  chance  !  here  came 
that  ver}-  being  who  had  filled  the  land  with  tumult, 
the  priests  with  rage,  and  the  people  w^ith  joy. 

Our  troubles  are  not  at  all  thnes  alike  troublesome 
to  us.  Even  the  sea  ceases  its  motion  at  times,  and 
its  surf  forgets  to  murmur.  Griefs  and  cares,  bitter 
memories,  and  heavy  troubles  intermit  their  tyranny, 
to  come  again  with  redoubled  oppressions.  Like  tides, 
sorrows  seem  sometimes  to  flow  out  and  leave  the 
sands  bare.  But  again  they  sometimes  rush  in  upon 
us  like  tides,  as  if  they  feared  that  something  should 
have  snatched  from  them  their  lawful  prey. 

And  just  so,  doubtless,  came  over  this  begging  blind 
man,  at  this  moment,  an  unutterable  pang  at  the  con- 


IIIIAIJNG   THE  BUND.  181 

sciousness  of  his  blindness.  A  moment  before  he  could 
have  laughed,  and  shot  back  a  merry  quip  at  some 
thoughtless  jest  that  touched  his  eyes.  But  now  that 
the  Healer  was  come,  now  that  he  might  be  restored, 
he  was  in  a  serious  and  earnest  mood.  Why,  to  open 
a  blind  man's  eyes  is  to  give  him  the  whole  world ! 
and  oh  !  to  be  so  near  a  cure,  to  be  within  the  sound 
of  that  voice  that  commanded  life  and  death,  that  awoke 
the  grave,  that  drove  diseases  from  the  body  and  sins 
from  the  soul,  and  yet  to  lose  the  chance  !  Such  a 
piercing  sense  there  must  have  been  of  his  deprivation, 
such  an  unutterable  desire  for  sight,  such  eager  hope 
that  his  deliverance  was  at  hand,  and  such  tremblincr 
fear  lest  it  might  fail,  that  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  lost 
all  sense  of  propriety,  and  did  so  cry  and  demean  him- 
self as  to  strike  surprise  and  offence  to  the  nearest  men 
around  about  him. 

And  what  did  he  cry  ?  "  Jesus,  thou  son  of  David, 
have  mercy  on  me." 

It  is  a  little  interesting  to  notice  how  differently  a 
man's  troubles  strike  him  and  those  that  are  only 
spectators. 

While  he  thus  cried  out,  and  the  irresistible  necessity 
of  imploration  was  upon  him,  —  while  his  heart  was  like 
a  rushing  river,  and  was  seeking  to  flow  out  in  words, 
his  eyes  being  stopped,  —  those  about  him  naturally 
had  a  sense  of  the  violation  of  propriety  ;  for  it  was 
out  of  place  for  a  beggar  to  make  such  a  clamor 
while  the  royal  procession  with  the  Master  of  life  and 
death  was  going  by. 

And  so  they  s-aid  to  him,  "  Hush  !  be  still !  be  de- 
cent !  be  quiet !  "  They  "  charged  him  that  he  should 
hold    his   peace."      But  what   did    he    care    for    their 


182  HEALING   THE   BLIND. 

advice  ?  He  walked  over  it  as  lordly  as  ever  a  king 
walked  among  peasants.  "  Nay,"  he  cried  the  more,  a 
great  deal,  "  Thou  son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me." 
The  attempt  to  stop  him  only  excited  him,  and  made 
more  impetuous  that  which  was  sufficiently  earnest 
before. 

Now  the  scene  changes ;  the  crowd  surge,  and  stop, 
and  gather  around  the  centre ;  for  the  Master  has 
heard  and  seen,  and  he  knows  all.  "  Jesus  stood  still, 
and  commanded  him  to  be  called."  And  now  all  wei'e 
curious,  and  with  that  fitful  change  which  is  so  char- 
acteristic of  the  ignorant,  they  who  before  had  been 
clamorous  to  keep  him  still,  ran  good-naturedly  to  say 
to  him,  "  Be  of  good  comfort,  rise  ;  he  calleth  thee." 
And  the  blind  man,  "  casting  away  his  garment,"  throw- 
ing everything  away  that  encumbered  him,  sprang 
toward  the  sound,  and  wondered  whence  it  came.  He 
'•'  rose  and  came  to  Jesus."  He  could  not  see  him. 
He  could  only  know  of  his  presence  by  the  sound  of 
his  voice.  "  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him, 
What  wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  unto  thee  ? "  He 
knew  what  he  wanted  to  have  done,  but  Christ  always 
loved  to  be  asked.  "  The  blind  man  said  unto  him. 
Lord,  that  I  might  receive  my  sight."  There  was  not 
in  all  the  world  another  thing  that  he  would  have 
Christ  to  give  him.  He  might  have  offered  him 
wealth,  honor,  all  bounty  of  life  ;  but  the  intense 
desire  of  his  soul  was  wrapped  up  in  that  one  thing  — 
"  Cure  me  of  my  ailment ;  give  me  light ;  make  me  as 
other  men  that  see  the  sun,  and  all  the  fiir  things  of 
earth ;  heal  me."  Then  Christ  spake,  and  it  was  done. 
He  that  brought  forth  the  light  in  the  morning  of  crea- 
tion, by  a  word,  brought  dawn  upon  this  blind  man's 


HEALING   THE  BLIND.  183 

eyes.  He  said  to  him,  ''  Go  thy  way  ;  thy  faith  hath 
made  thee  whole."  Immediately  he  received  his  sight, 
and  followed  Jesus  in  the  way. 

Here  was  another  of  those  marvels.  The  crowd,  no 
longer  indifferent,  now  doubtless  gathered  about  to 
participate  in  the  wondrous  joy,  and  praised  God, 
when  the  man  began  to  give  utterance  to  his  pious 
feeling.  It  seems  that  he  saw  twice.  He  saw  with 
the  outward  man  and  with  the  inward  man ;  and  he 
was  healed  more  than  he  himself  meant  to  be. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER. 

The  Passover  was  near  at  hand, — that  most  sacred  of 
all  the  Jewish  feasts.  The  devout  Jews  from  all  the 
country  around  came  flocking  to  the  mother  city,  that 
in  old  Jerusalem  they  might  purify  themselves,  and 
eat  the  Passover ;  for  wherever  a  Jew  might  be  called 
by  business  or  necessity,  Jerusalem  only  was  his  home. 

As  they  gathered  in  little  groups,-  naturally  the  con- 
versation turned  to  this  wonderful  prophet  whose 
preaching  and  whose  miracles  had  made  such  a  commo- 
tion throughout  all  Juda3a,  but  especially  in  Jerusalem 
herself. 

Whether  friendly  or  hostile,  everj^  one  thought  or 
talked  of  him.  The  recent  raising  of  Lazarus  and 
still  more  recent  healing  of  Bartimeus  were  texts 
enough  for  many  a  wordy  war,  —  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees  doubtless  trying  to  belittle  these  events, 
while  those  who  saw  the  miracles,  and  their  friends 
to  whom  the  stories  were  told,  never  tired  of  repeat- 
ing them,  with  wonders  added  at  each  repetition. 

Men  love  the  wonderful,  and  so  rapidly  did  the 
number  grow  of  those  who  believed  in  the  miracles 
and  who  were  eager  to  see  the  wonder-worker,  that 
the  rulers  beijan  to  meditate  the  desperate  expedient 
of  killing  Lazarus  too.  He  was  altogether  too  eloquent 
and  convincins:  ;m  ary-unient.     He  was  a  stubborn  fact. 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PA.'^SOVEIi.  185 

and  they  could  only  find  one  way  of  answering  him. 
'•Kill  him,  and  let's  see  if  he  will  be  raised  again." 
But  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  pretext,  convenient 
to  hand,  on  which  they  could  condemn  him,  and  des- 
perate as  they  were,  they  hesitated  belbre  resorting  to 
assassination.  They  consulted,  planned,  watched,  and 
might  perhaps  in  time  have  found  some  accusation, 
that  would  have  been  pressed  to  serious  results  through 
the  convenient  means  of  suborned  witnesses,  had  not 
Jesus  himself  just  then  reappeared,  and  absorbed  in 
himself  all  their  thoughts  and  attention. 

There  had  been  much  questioning  and  wondering. 
Would  he  return  to  Jerusalem  to  keep  the  feast  ?  He 
had  so  often  shown  such  calm,  quiet  fearlessness  that 
notwithstanding  the  known  threatening  hostility  of 
the  rulers,  it  was  more  than  half  believed  he  would 
return.  If,  as  many  thought,  he  was  a  prophet,  what 
better  opportunity  for  preaching  could  he  desire  than 
when  all  Jewry  was  assembled  at  this  fhc  feast? 

All  were  sharply  on  the  lookout.  The  chief  priests 
and  the  Pharisees  had  taken  pains  to  be  informed  the 
moment  he  was  seen,  and  had  commanded  that  if  any 
man  knew  where  he  was  he  should  let  them  know,  that 
they  might  take  him  at  once,  before  he  had  time  by 
some  new  miracle  to  gather  too  great  a  throng  about 
him;  for  they  dared  not  take  him  from  the  midst  of  a 
multitude.  In  the  first  place  it  would  have  been  well- 
nigh  impossible  to  have  got  at  him,  but  even  if  they 
had  reached  him,  the  officers  or  soldiers  who  should 
then  lay  violent  hands  on  him  would  have  been  torn 
to  pieces  by  the  people.  The  Jews  were  an  excitable 
people,  quick  to  rouse  and  quick  to  forget.  The  com- 
mon people  were  not  deeply  in  love  with  the  rulers, 


186  THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PASSOVER. 

the  Pharisees,  or  the  wealthy  chisses ;  from  these  they 
had  received  only  insults,  contempt,  and  oppression, 
and  had  little  sympathy  with  them.  So  long  as  their 
national  self-love  was  not  touched  they  did  not  care 
how  much  Jesus  vexed  the  rulers;  they  rather  enjoyed 
the  confusion  and  defeat  of  the  crafty  scribes  when 
some  direct,  cutting  retort  of  Jesus  left  them  defence- 
less. It  was  a  treat  to  see  those  proud,  contemptuous 
Pharisees,  who  thought  no  more  of  the  people  than  of  so 
many  cattle,  humiliated  by  this  quiet  Nazarene,  himself 
one  of  the  common  people.  And  when  their  enthusiasm 
was  enkindled  by  his  acts  of  sympathetic  charity,  when 
they  saw  their  children,  their  friends  and  neighbors 
healed  of  their  infirmities,  if  then  any  attempt  had 
been  made  to  seize  Jesus  it  would  have  utterly  failed, 
and  those  who  sought  it  would  have  been  likely  to  have 
received  an  ovation  of  stones. 

None  knew  this  better  than  the  rulers  themselves, 
and  none  knew  better  that  if  they  could  seize  Jesus  by 
stealth,  keep  him  out  of  sight  for  a  time,  and  make 
him  out  a  national  enemy,  a  friend  of  the  hated  Romans, 
the  fickle  rabble  would  turn  against  him  as  readily 
as  they  now  followed  him.  They  therefore  kept  them- 
selves fully  informed  wherever  he  went  and  whatever 
he  did,  waiting  only  for  a  favorable  opportunity. 

Jesus  not  unnaturally  made  his  home  at  first  in  Beth- 
any, probably  staying  with  Lazarus  and  his  sisters.  He 
was  near  Jerusalem,  in  the  midst  of  friends,  while  the 
crowds  who  came  with  the  double  curiosity  of  seeing 
him  and  Lazarus  prevented  any  molestation  by  his  ene- 
mies. Though  near  at  hand  his  time  had  not  yet 
come.  The  rulers  of  the  synagogue  had  sought  Jesus 
to  take  him,  but  now  he   sought   them,  he  came  to 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PASSOVER.  187 

them  with  a  vast  and  jubihiiit  concourse.  He  went  in 
through  the  gate  of  Jerusalem.  He  came  in  with  sov- 
ereignty. A  great  crowd  thronged  about  him.  The 
terror  and  the  admiration  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus 
from  the  grave  were  in  the  air,  and  the  people  poured 
around  him.  They  cast  their  garments  upon  an  ass, 
and  took  him  and  set  him  thereon ;  they  uttered  those 
shouts  of  the  Old  Testament  which  announced  the 
Messiah ;  and  the  whole  air  was  filled  with  hosannas, 
until  all  Jerusalem  and  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat 
were  not  large  enough  to  hold  the  jubilant  cries  that 
arose  in  the  distance. 

The  Pharisees  stood  aghast;  all  their  plans  had  failed. 
They  would  crush  him,  but  he  bids  fair  to  overwhelm 
them. 

"  Perceive  ye,"  say  they  to  one  another,  '•  how  ye 
prevail  nothing  ?    Behold,  the  world  is  gone  after  him." 

It  was  a  bitter  day  for  those  proud  men.  They  saw 
this  despised  Nazarene  enter  the  very  temple.  He  not 
only  dared  to  come  to  Jerusalem,  but  to  that  place  of 
all  others  where  they  were  the  strongest,  to  the  Tem- 
ple. He  placed  himself  in  their  very  hands,  and  they 
were  powerless  to  close  them  on  him.  He  not  only 
evades  their  threats,  but  triumphantly  invades  their 
Temple.  He  refuses  to  still  the  jubilant  shouts  that 
fill  the  air,  and  will  not  stay  the  children's  voices, . 
crying  ''Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David !  "  while  they 
stand  by,  gloomy  in  impotent  rage,  longing  to  do  that 
they  dare  not  do. 

On  the  morrow  Jesus  returns  and  purges  the  Temple 
of  those  who  had  made  it  a  market,  driving  them  out 
and  will  not  suffer  them  to  desecrate  it  with  their 
merchandise.     For  the  time  being  he  was  all  powerful, 


188  THE  APPROACH   OF   THE   PAS.^OVER. 

none  dared  stay  him,  or  interfere.  Daily  he  taught  in 
the  Temple,  retiring  at  evening  across  the  valley  to  the 
Mount  of  Olives. 

During  these  visits  to  the  Temple  there  occurred  a 
series  of  collisions,  not  half  so  vivid  in  the  sacred  con- 
text as  they  must  have  been  in  reality.  There  is  no 
phenomenon  recorded  in  all  history  that  is  for  one  mo- 
ment to  be  compared  in  profound  psychological  inter- 
est with  the  life  of  so  noble  and  spiritual  a  creature  as 
Jesus,  even  in  his  earthly  relations.  His  heavenly- 
mindedness  and  moral  wisdom  and  personal  grandeur 
stood  out  in  marked  contrast  with  the  worldly  sagacity, 
the  cunning  philosophy,  the  self-seeking  zeal  and  piety, 
of  the  scholars  and  teachers  of  the  Jewish  nation. 

It  runs  through  a  long  series  ;  there  was  a  large 
number  of  conflicts  ;  and  each  one  of  them  has  in  it 
wonderful  contents. 

The  ministry  of  John  the  Baptist  made  a  strong  im- 
pression upon  the  mind  of  Jesus  ;  and  as  we  have  seen,^ 
the  judges  of  the  Temple  and  the  synagogue  looked 
upon  John  with  great  distaste.  We  can  imagine  with 
what  disfavor  these  daintilj-  reared  Jews,  whose  piety 
had  led  to  refinement,  who  had  mixed  with  the  Greeks, 
and  who  were  familiar  with  Roman  civilization,  would 
look  upon  the  incursion  of  such  a  rude  reformer  right 
from  the  wilderness. 

Then,  John  was  rather  irreverential.  He  did  not 
seem  to  have  any  regard  for  the  regular  church,  or 
for  church  authorities.  His  exhortation  was  for  the 
most  part  very  humiliating  to  them.  If  he  had  had 
the  power  to  go  into  the  synagogue  and  expound  the 
Scriptures  in  a  regular  way,  or  if  he  had  been  able  to 

1  Vol.  I.  Chapter  5. 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PASSOVER.  189 

perform  the  Temple  service,  which  in  the  later  days 
of  his  time  included  much  instruction,  it  would  have 
been  a  very  different  thing ;  but  he  did  not  go  into 
the  city ;  he  avoided  large  concourses  of  people ;  and 
they  that  would  hear  him  teach  must  go  down  where 
he  was. 

Long  after  that,  when  Jesus  met  these  men  face  to 
ftxce,  as  John  does  not  appear  to  have  done,  he  made 
allusion  to  this  same  condition  of  things,  and  declared 
to  them,  "John,  whom  you  despised,  did  not  aspire  to 
be  an  eminently  spiritual  teacher,  he  did  not  rise  to  the 
higher  demands  of  religious  experience.  He  came  in 
the  way  of  righteousness ;  and  the  way  of  righteousness 
is  the  way  of  the  reformation  of  condition ;  and  you 
believed  him  not."  He  gave  them  to  understand  that 
he  himself  came  to  them,  not  simply  in  the  way  of 
righteousness,  but  as  a  spiritual  teacher,  to  give  them 
more  transcendent  views,  loftier  conceptions,  of  what 
God  requires. 

But  now  comes  the  severity :  "  The  publicans  and 
the  harlots  believed  him :  and  ye,  when  ye  had  seen 
it,  repented  not  afterward,  that  ye  might  believe  him." 
''  The  publicans  and  the  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom  of 
God  before  you." 

What  an  awful  thing  that  was  to  say:  Consider 
what  the  Sanhedrim  was,  that  had  in  it  some  such 
men  as  Nicodemus !  If  there  was  one,  there  were 
more.  We  have  intimations  that  there  were.  It  is 
bad  enough  that  among  them  were  men  who  for  fear 
of  the  Jews  did  not  dare  to  avow  their  convictions. 

But  consider  Christ,  standing  calmly  in  the  Temple 
and  looking  upon  the  faces  of  the  ripest  scholars  and 
teachers  that  Judgea  had  produced,  men  that  were  the 


190       THE  APr ROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER, 

flower  of  Jerusalem,  in  their  daintiness,  in  tlieir  strict- 
ness, in  their  Sabbath  observances,  in  their  ritual  fidelity 
to  the  Temple,  in  their  steadfast  adhesion  to  the  syn- 
agogue ;  consider  him,  lifting  himself  up,  and  with  that 
eye  before  which  at  times  no  man  could  stand  lookiug 
upon  them  all,  and  saying,  "  The  publicans  and  harlots 
shall  enter  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you," 

What  was  the  meaning  of  all  this?  Did,  then,  our 
Saviour  hold  that  extortion,  oppression,  and  dissipation 
and  lusts  w^ere  less  wicked  than  men  had  thought  them 
to  be  ?  Might  a  man  wallow  in  illicit  courses,  and  be 
steeped  in  the  lowest  vices,  and  yet  stand  less  condemn- 
able  before  God  than  he  was  before  men  ?  No.  Prob- 
ably there  never  lived  a  being  to  whose  eyes  vice 
and  crime  were  so  exceedingly  sinful  as  they  were 
to  the  eyes  of  Christ.  No  one  condemned  more 
strongly  than  he  the  stupendous  wickedness  of  such 
moral  degradation. 

Was  it,  then,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  understood 
that  carefulness  of  life,  decency  of  intercourse  in  so- 
ciety, regularity  of  worship  in  the  synagogue^  and  at- 
tention to  the  duties  of  the  Temple  had  no  value  ?  Did 
our  Saviour  undertake  to  say  that  the  men  who  made 
it  a  matter  of  study  to  live  right  every  day  were  of  no 
account  at  all  ?     No. 

What,  then,  was  the  fact  ?  It  was  this :  Here  was 
a  class  of  men  that  were  sinful  in  the  extreme.  Thej' 
made  no  pretence  of  being  moral.  They  knew  they 
were  sinful.  They  felt  it.  When  John  came  they  real- 
ized their  need  of  repentance.  They  saw  that  they 
were  undone,  and  said,  "  If  God  has  any  pardon,  we 
are  the  very  ones  that  need  it."  They  lent  a  willing 
ear  to   the  gospel.     There  was  something  in   the  air 


THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER.  191 

that  condemned  them,  and  John's  words  did  not  fall 
on  stony   ground.     When  he  preached  to   them,  and 
told  them  that   they  were  sinners,  they  knew  it  and 
acknowledged    it.     But   when   he    preached    to    these 
other  men  how  did    they  take  it  ?      Why,  they  said, 
"  What   lack  we  ?     What  do  we  need  ?     Are  we    not 
moral  ?     Are  we  not  virtuous  ?     Tell  us  where   there 
is  a  spot  on  our  robes.     Pray,  what  do  we  need  ?     We 
do  not  consort   with  drunkards    and    harlots;   we    do 
not  indulge  in  any  sort  of  vice  ;  we  conform  to  the 
requirements  of  our  religion  ;  and  when  this  fellow,  in 
preaching  to  us,  calls  upon  us  to  reform  and  to  pass  in- 
to a  new  life,  wdiat  does  he  mean  ? "     He  meant  that 
with  all  their  religious  acquisitions  the  sense  of  sin  was 
extinguished  in  them.     There  was  in  them  no  yearn- 
ing for  something  higher  and  better,  which   threw   a 
shadow  upon  their  pride,  and  humbled  it.     They  had 
no  sense  of  their  need  of  God.     Their  culture  not  only 
made  them  self-sufficient  and  self-satisfied,  but    made 
them  feel  that  they  were  the  people,  and  that  wisdom 
would  die  with  them,  —  that  they  were  the  tops  of  the 
trees  which    the  sun    never   missed,   while    the    great 
crowd  were  the  roots  which   the   sun  never  touched. 
They  were  censorious,  critical,  condemnatory,  heartless. 
They  did    not    care  for    other   folks.     They    wrapped 
their  robes  about  them,  and  would  not  go  near  any- 
thing that  would  defile  them.     They  shunned  all  the 
great  humanities  of  life   because  self-culture  must  be 
attended   to.     They  observed  Sunday,  and  made   long 
prayers.    They  were  eminent  for  the  performance  of  re- 
ligious duties.    They  were  pious  ;  but  according  to  their 
standard  of  piety  they  could  be  pious  and  selfish,  pious 
and  proud,  pious  and  bitter,  pious  and  hard-hearted. 


192  THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER. 

Then  in  plainer  parables,  whose  meaning  they  could 
not  miss,  aimed  straight  at  them,  Jesus  condemned 
these   priests  and   Pharisees, 

Nothing  but  the  multitude  prevented  them  from  at 
once  laying  violent  hands  on  him.  Fearing  to  use  vio- 
lence they  laid  their  plans  to  catch  him  in  some  un- 
guarded heresy,  in  some  careless  utterance  which 
might  either  provoke  the  interference  of  Roman 
authority  or  awaken  the  prejudices  of  the  people. 
Shrewdly  they  asked  if  they  should  pay  tribute  to  the 
Romans.  This  time  they  were  sure  they  would  catch 
him  on  one  of  the  two  horns  of  a  dilemma. 

To  be  obliged  to  pay  tribute  to  their  conquerors  was 
hateful  to  the  Jews,  and  he  who  should  commend  this 
tribute  would  speedily  lose  caste  in  their  ej'es.  On 
the  other  hand,  to  repudiate  the  tribute  was  to  rebel 
against  Roman  authority,  when  the  Roman  Governor 
would  have  promptly  interfered  in  a  manner  that 
would  have  saved  the  priests  and  Pharisees  all  further 
trouble. 

Yet  how  perfectly  simple  was  Jesus's  answer.  See- 
ing through  their  designs,  he  charges  them  to  their 
faces  with  hypocrisy,  and  then  demands  to  see  the 
tribute  money.  The  money  is  brought,  a  Roman  coin, 
with  the  image  and  superscription  of  Caesar.  Holding 
it  before  their  eyes,  he  calmly  answers  them,  "  Render 
therefore  unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are  CoBsar's, 
and  unto  God  the  things  which  are  God's." 

There  was  no  further  disposition  to  discuss  this 
branch  of  political  econotny.  "  They  held  their  peace, 
left  him,  and  went  away."  The  Pharisees  were  for  the 
present  satisfied,  and  retired  from  the  field.  The  Sad- 
ducees,  doubtless  not  sorry  at  the  discomfiture  of  their 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PASSOVEJL  193 

old  rivals,  now  came  forward  with  a  puzzle  of  their  own, 
which  they  had  skilfully  prepared.  Diu'ing  the  prog- 
ress of  these  discussions,  which  Jesus's  presence  pro- 
voked, every  one  of  the  schools,  and  almost  every  one 
of  the  factions,  had  their  turn  in  propounding  to  him 
their  different  questions. 

The  philosophy  of  the  Jews  consisted  largely  of  puz- 
zles, and  riddles,  and  enigmas,  and  proverbs,  and  dark 
sayings,  —  little  curiosities  of  ingenuity  which  repre- 
sented no  solid  and  substantial   truth. 

This  question  which  they  propounded  is  a  specimen 
of  the  way  in  which  they  taught ;  for  this  was  consid- 
ered to  be  very  sound  by  the  profound  of  the  Saddu- 
cees,  who  did  not  believe  that  there  was  to  be  any 
resurrection  ;  who  professed  to  follow  conscientiously 
the  Jewish  Scriptures,  and  to  be  the  truest  of  the  rep- 
resentatives of  Moses  and  his  institutes.  According-  to 
the  system  of  the  Jews,  by  which  the  property  was  to 
be  kept  in  the  several  families  of  the  tribe,  if  a  man 
died  his  widow  was  taken  to  his  next  brother,  and  she 
became  his  wife ;  for  polygamy  was  permitted,  in  the 
early  Jewish  history,  at  any  rate.  So  they  propounded 
a  case.  There  were  seven  brothers,  and  in  turn  they 
all  conveniently  died,  for  the  purpose  of  the  story,  and 
the  woman  passed  from  one  to  another,  and  became, 
in  succession,  according  to  this  system  of  the  Jews, 
the  wife  of  each.  "  Now,"  say  they,  "in  the  other 
life  whose  shall  she  be?  —  for  all  seven  had  her."  The 
answer  of  the  Saviour  was  this,  substantially:  '^' You 
are  a  set  of  iijrnorant  fools!"  It  was  couched  in  other 
language,  but  it  came  to  that.  He  said,  "  Ye  do  err, 
not  knowing  the  Scriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God." 
It  was  saying,  in  other  words :  "  Ye  blunder;  and  the 

VOL.  II. 13 


194       THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER. 

ignorance  of  your  stupid  blunder  is  twofold,  —  first 
from  a  want  of  knowledge  of  your  own  Scriptures, 
and  second  from  a  lack  of  understanding  the  law  of 
things,  the  everlasting  law  of  nature,  —  that  is,  the 
power  of  God."  "  For,"  said  he,  "  in  the  resurrec- 
tion they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage, 
but  are  as  the  angels  of  God." 

He  did  not  say  how  this  was.  He  likened  them  to 
the  angels,  but  did  not  tell  us  how  the  angels  were.  It 
was  rather  negative.  He  declared  that  one  potential, 
universal  part  of  the  economy  of  human  life,  with  all  its 
incidents  and  concomitants,  stopped  at  the  grave.  This 
is  the  part  of  man  out  of  which  multitudinous  history, 
good  and  bad,  is  derived.  But  useful  as  it  is,  it  ceases 
and  does  not  go  on  into  the  other  life  ;  and  it  seems 
very  natural,  since  man  is  a  double  being,  born  for  this 
lower  life,  in  transition  and  formation  for  a  life  to 
come,  that  a  portion  of  the  powers  or  faculties  wdiich 
fit  him  especially  for  this  lower  life,  when  they  shall 
have  performed  their  function,  will,  as  it  were,  like  the 
calyx  of  a  flower,  wither  and  fall  back,  and  that  into 
the  other  life  we  shall  carry  only  those  parts  of  our 
nature,  which  are  highest  and  noblest,  and  which  have 
relation  to  the  spiritual  rather  than  to  the  physical. 

Therefore  the  reply  of  our  Master  to  this  question  in 
reference  to  the  future  state  is  not  only  remarkable  for 
what  it  says,  but  is  quite  as  remarkable  for  what  it 
leaves  unsaid.  For  both  here  and  everywhere  one  will 
be  struck,  when  he  comes  to  analyze  it  in  the  light 
of  modern  inquiries  and  modern  knowledge,  with  how 
little  is  actually  taught  us  in  respect  to  the  other  state 
in  the  Bible.  It  is  declared  that  Christ  "  brought  life 
and  immortality  to  light,"  as  he  did ;  but  he  certainly 


THE  APPROACH  OF  THE  PASSOVER.  195 

did  not  reveal  them  in  all  their  metes  and  bounds,  nor 
in  their  regnant  philosophy. 

It  is  affirmed  liere  that  the  Old  Testament  recoo-nizes 
the  existence  of  men  after  death.  "  Ye  do  err,  not 
knowing  the  Scriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God."  He 
knew  that  they  were  Sadducees,  and  that  they  held  the 
doctrine  that  there  was  no  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
and  therefore  no  immortality ;  and  they  based  it  on  the 
Scriptures.  And  his  declaration  to  them  that  they  erred 
in  that  philosophy,  because  they  did  not  understand  the 
Old  Testament  Scripture  on  which  it  was  based,  must, 
it  seems  to  us,  be  taken  as  affirming  that  in  his  judg- 
ment the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  did  recognize  a  fu- 
ture existence.  This  may  seem  strange  to  any  who  have 
never  thought  of  it ;  but  an  examination  of  the  question 
will  show  that  it  almost  required  some  such  affirmation 
as  this  to  give  us  liberty  to  believe  that  the  Old  Testa- 
ment Scriptures  did  teach  any  such  thing.  For  the 
question  of  continued  existence  is  only  recognked  in  the 
Old  Testament.  It  is  not  taught  there.  And  from  the 
beginning  of  that  first  dispensation  to  the  end  of  it, 
from  the  opening  chapter  of  Genesis  to  the  closing 
chapter  of  the  record  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  doc- 
trine of  future  rewards  and  punishments,  of  immortality 
in  bliss  or  of  penalty  in  the  other  life,  is  never  once  ex- 
plicitly taught.  But  a  great  many  times  it  is  recog- 
nized. And  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  multitude 
were  astonished  and  the  Sadducees  silenced. 

But  now^  the  Pharisees,  hearing  how  the  Sadducees 
had  been  put  to  silence,  come  together  for  another  at- 
tempt. Then  one  of  the  scribes  came  forward  with  a 
question,  one  of  the  logicians  of  the  Temple,  men  who 
made  riddles  and  called  them  true,  who  were  constantly 


196  THE  APPROACH   OF   THE  PASSOVER. 

pursuing  Christ  with  these  catch  questions,  until  he  set 
them  clown  with  some  such  answer  that  "  no  man  after 
that  durst  ask  him  any  question."  He  asked, ''  Which  is 
the  first  commandment  of  all  ?  "  This  was  among  the 
casuistical  questions  that  were  bruited  about  from  one 
to  another.  As  if  it  had  any  particular  importance  to 
men  who  did  not  intend  to  keep  any  of  them  ! 

"  Jesus  answeied  him,  The  first  of  all  the  command- 
ments is,  Hear,  0  Israel ;  the  Lord  our  God  is  one 
Lord  ;  and  thou  slialt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soid,  and  with  all  thy  mind, 
and  with  all  thy  strength  :  this  is  the  first  command- 
ment. And  the  second  is  like,  namely  this.  Thou  shalt 
love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  There  is  none  other 
conunandment  greater  than  these.  And  the  scribe  said 
imto  him.  Well,  Master,  thou  hast  said  the  truth." 

His  better  sense,  his  moral  sense,  received  such  sud- 
den illumination  that  he  was  honest ;  and  he  owned 
that  the  thrust  had  been  fairly  parried  ;  and  he  also 
evinced  some  slight  admiration,  and  sensibility  to  the 
subject  in  question. 

"  Well,  Master,  thou  hast  said  the  truth :  for  there  is 
one  God ;  and  there  is  none  other  but  he :  and  to  love 
him  wdth  all  the  heart,  and  with  all  the  understanding, 
and  with  nil  the  soul,  and  with  all  the  strength,  and  to 
love  his  neiuhbor  as  himself,  is  more  than  all  whole 
burnt  offerings '  and  sacrifices.  And  when  Jesu^  saw 
that  he  answ^ered  discreetly,  he  said  unto  him,.  Thou 
art  not  fiir  from  the  kingdom  of  God." 

That  is  the  last  we  hear  of  this  man.  He  probably 
was  like  ten  thousand  men  in  our  day,  who  have  their 
moments  of  radiant  insight  and  vision  of  the  highest 
character,  and  for  the  time  stand  in  the  light,  but  re- 


THE  APPROACH  OF   THE  PASSOVER.  ll)7 

cede  and  go  among  their  companions,  and  plunge  again 
into  the  currents  that  have  floated  them  before,  and 
lose  it  all,  so  that  it  becomes  merely  a  point  of  memory, 
—  not  a  point  of  development,  not  a  point  of  new  in- 
fluence, not  the  first  step  of  elevation,  but  simply  a 
curious  recollection. 

No  further  attempt  appears  to  have  been  made  to 
trip  Jesus  by  questions  or  puzzles.  His  replies  were  so 
utterly  unanswerable,  he  saw  with  such  clearness  into 
their  designs,  that  their  plans  for  injury  invariably 
recoiled  upon  themselves. 

But  now  he  himself  takes  the  initiative  again,  and  in 
scorching;  words  arraio-ns  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  for 
their  hypocrisy  and  cant.  Scathing  as  lightning,  ter- 
rible in  its  truthfulness,  his  denunciation  spreads  dis- 
may among  them. 

Jesus  charges  the  people  that  to  the  extent  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees  represent  the  law  and  settled  in- 
stitutes of  their  religion  they  were  to  be  obeyed;  but 
that  their  personal  examples  were  not  to  be  followed. 

"The  scribes  and  Pharisees  sit  in  Moses'  seat;  all 
whatsoever  therefore  they  bid  ye  observe,  that  observe 
and  do ;  but  do  not  ye  after  their  trorks,  for  they  say 
and  do  not.  For  they  bind  heavy  burdens  grievous 
to  be  borne,  and  lay  them  on  men's  shoulders,  but 
they  themselves  will  not  move  them  with  one  of  their 
fino-ers." 

And  yet  in  one  way  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  were 
among  the  best  people  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour. 
There  were  a  great  many  bad  men  among  them,  as  he 
leaves  us  no  doubt ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  regarding 
them  historically,  they  stood  in  relation  to  the  Jewish 
people  very  much  as  the  Puritans  stand  in  relation  to 


198       TUE  APPROACU   OF   THE  PASSOVER. 

US,  with  a  great  many  external  faults,  but,  after  all,  the 
preservers  of  constitutional  liberty,  and  profoundly  in- 
fluential in  the  maintenance  and  spread  of  spiritual 
and  religious  thought. 

The  Pharisees  had  their  origin  during  the  Captivity. 
They  found  their  people  transported  into  a  foreign 
country,  surrounded  with  every  temptation  to  idolatry, 
their  interests  biassing  them,  their  memory  growing 
forgetful,  liable  to  learn  the  precepts  and  habits  of  a 
pagan  religion ;  and  the  Pharisees  set  about  saving 
the  people  from  this  fate.  They  therefore  began  to 
teach  them  in  the  way  of  the  religion  of  their  fathers; 
and  as  many  of  the  institutes  of  Moses  were  rather 
adapted  to  national  life  in  their  own  country,  and 
therefore  needed  some  modification  when  the  Israel- 
ites were  carried  into  another  land,  it  was  a  part  of  the 
duty  of  the  Pharisees  to  institute  or  readopt  the  Mosaic 
economy ;  and  so  they  did  preserve,  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent, a  large  body  of  the  Jewish  people  in  the  faith 
of  their  fathers,  saving  them  from  paganism,  —  from 
idolatry. 

But  when  they  returned  to  their  own  land,  this 
tendency,  this  attempt  to  hold  men  by  the  rigor  of 
customs  and  laws  and  observances  became  excessive, 
and  underneath  it  finally  there  was  developed  double- 
mindedness, —  an  exterior  conformity  to  things  that  are 
right,  and  an  interior  corruption  of  motive.  In  their 
hands,  in  the  time  of  the  Saviour,  was  substantially  all 
the  religious  influence  of  the  day.  A  great  many  good 
men  were  among  them,  but  those  that  were  in  the 
ascendency — the  high  priest  and  those  that  co-oper- 
ated with  him  —  were  in  political  affiliation  with  their 
oppressors;  and   it  became  necessary,   therefore,  that 


TIJE  APPROACH  OF  TUE  PASSOVER.  199 

Christ  should  strike  with  severe  strokes  at  the  real 
lapse  from  morality  which  had  taken  place  among  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees.  That  terrible  denunciation  was 
beratic.  Scai'cely  anything  less  than  that  could  have 
reached  through  the  thick  hide  of  self-conceit  which 
covers  spiritual  leaders  when  they  have  degenerated ; 
for  there  is  nothing  that  is  less  pervious  than  conceited 
orthodoxy  in  any  age,  or  in  any  nation. 

Our  Saviour  was  not  indiscriminate.  He  says  : 
"  These  things  ye  ought  to  have  done."  If  it  is 
customary,  and  all  right,  according  to  your  fathers, 
to  pay  tithe  and  anise  and  cummin  and  mint,  do  it ; 
it  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  abandon  that  cus- 
tom ;  but  the  weightier  matters,  judgment,  mercy,  or 
qualities  of  essential  divine  manhood,  —  these  ye  must 
not  neo-lect  in  favor  of  externals. 

The  analysis  which  our  Saviour  gave  of  the  thoughts 
and  habits  of  the  Pharisees  reveals  the  most  profound 
ignorance  on  their  part  as  to  the  nature  of  their  ac- 
tions under  the  divine   law. 

There  was  a  confusion  which  would  seem  very  singu- 
lar if  it  were  not  continued  and  reproduced  in  every 
age,  —  a  confusion  by  which  men  gave  to  artificial  sins 
an  importance,  or  to  artificial  observances  a  value, 
which  they  did  not  give  to  great  natural  duties,  or  to 
violations  of  duty.  These  men's  consciences  were  such 
that  they  would  pay  tithe  of  mint,  of  anise,  and  of 
cummin,  or  any  other  tribute  that  was  required  in  the 
Temple.  They  began  their  worship  on  Saturday  night, 
or  Friday  night  in  their  calendar,  precisely  wdien  the 
sun  went  down ;  or,  for  fear  that  they  should  not  give 
every  minute  of  the  sacred  time  to  God,  they  began 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes  ahead  of  t'lne.     They  were  ex- 


200  TiiK  A/'/'HoAcn  or  tin:  iwssovf.ii. 

tremely  careful  not  to  eat  until  they  had  washed  their 
hands,  no  matter  how  clean  they  were.  They  would 
not  touch  a  dead  body.  In  no  way  would  they  violate 
the  ritual  law.  At  the  same  time  they  were  almost 
heartless.  They  w^ere  grossly  selfish,  grasping,  ambi- 
tious, and  corrupt;  and  Christ  charged  them  with  al- 
most every  crime.  He  says  :  "  You  pay  tithe  of  mint, 
anise,  and  cummin,  but  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law,  the  great  natural  virtues  and  duties,  you  neglect." 
It  will  be  observed  that  those  weightier  matters  of  the 
law  which  they  omitted  were  judgment,  or  justice  ; 
equity,  or  fairness ;  honesty,  or  truth  between  man  and 
man ;  mercy,  or  kindness  and  goodness  toward  all 
mankind  ;  and  faith,  or  the  recognition  of  the  invisible 
God,  of  the  sphere  of  his  existence,  and  of  their  duties 
toward  him.  These  great  fundamental  matters  they 
did  not  care  anything  about;  but,  in  sweeping  by  the 
market-place  if  their  garment  should  happen  to  strike 
a  dead  body,  they  must  resort  to  a  prescribed  ceremony 
of  cleansing  to  remove  the  taint.  If  there  was  any 
service  due  to  the  Temple,  they  saw  that  it  was  mi- 
nutelv  and  faithfullv  performed.  If  it  had  not  been 
scrupulously  fulfilled  their  consciences  would  have 
smote  them.  But  they  might  violate  all  the  canons 
of  morality,  and  not  feel  a  particle  of  remorse. 

They  were  so  busy  with  the  instruments  of  religion, 
and  the  doctrines  of  religion,  and  the  customs  of  reli- 
gion that  they  had  little  opportunity  to  take  care  of 
men,  or  to  be  interested  in  them,  or  to  see  what  the 
providence  of  God  was  doing  among  them,  or  to  watch 
the  movement  of  things,  good  or  bad. 

The  ground  was  shaking  under  their  feet ;  they 
were   standing  on   the  eve  of    events  which  were  to 


THE  APPROACH    OF   THE  PASSOVER.  201 

eclipse  the  glory  of  the  Jewish  people ;  they  were 
within  a  hand's  breadth  of  tlie  greatest  catastrophe 
that  had  ever  visited  their  nation ;  they  were  within  an 
arm's  length  of  that  revolution  which  was  to  brino; 
down  their  capital  and  scatter  their  people ;  already 
the  symptoms  were  in  the  sky,  and  the  tremblings 
were  in  the  earth ;  and  yet  they  did  not  see  them  nor 
believe  them.  And  Jesus  reproached  them  that  they 
were  so  observant  of  the  mutable  appearances  in  the 
heavens,  but  were  blind  to  great  moral  events.  In 
other  words,  their  refusal  to  look  and  see  what  God 
was  doing  by  his  providence  in  the  time  in  which  they 
lived  was  a  matter  of  reproach,  and  of  just  reproach, 
on  the  part  of  the  Master. 

While  the  picture  so  vividly  drawn  by  Jesus  was 
true  of  the  great  body  of  the  rulers,  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  and  applied  to  them  as  a  class,  yet  there 
were  of  course,  many  individual  exceptions.  There 
was  no  period  in  Christ's  teaching  and  life  in  which 
there  were  not  a  select  part  of  the  Pharisees  who  be- 
lieved in  him.  Some  few  were  willing  to  own  it,  but 
the  greater  part  were  not.  Townrd  the  close  of  his 
life,  as  he  came  more  and  more  in  contact  with  the 
higher  orders  of  the  Pharisees,  that  same  experience 
attended  him.  The  great  body  of  them,  from  party 
earnestness  as  well  as  personal  antipathies,  rejected  his 
teachings  and  assumptions.  There  were  some  who 
regarded  them ;  but  they  were  such  men  as  Nico- 
demus,  and  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  and  others  like  them, 
— just  men  ;  deep-hearted  men ;  men  w^ont  to  pon- 
der moral  questions ;  men  that  had  soul-hunger ;  men 
of  genuine  religious  aspiration ;  men  that  could  not 
if  they  would,  and  tliat  would  not  if  they  could,  free 


1>U2  THE  A  P  PRO  AC  U   OF   THE  PASSOVER. 

themselves  from  the  solemn  overshadowing  of  eternal 
truths. 

While  the  great  multitude  of  Pharisees  rejected 
Christ  utterly,  vehemently  contested  him,  and  sought 
his  destruction,  there  were  here  and  there  many  men 
that  believed.  And  the  question  is,  Why  did  they  not 
openlv  espouse  his  cause  and  give  strength  to  it  ?  It 
certainly  was  a  great  moral  weakness,  to  use  the  mildest 
term,  on  the  part  of  those  of  the  Pharisaic  body  who 
believed  in  Christ,  not  openly  to  avow  their  faith  in 
him.  But  we  must  not  suppose  that  they  were  so 
very  bad,  measured  according  to  our  estimate  of  good 
or  bad  among  men.  They  were  rulers  of  the  syna- 
gogue ;  and  they  were  the  "  chief  rulers,"  it  is  said. 
That  is,  they  were  men  that  stood  among  the  very 
highest  of  the  ofl&cers  of  the  synagogue.  The  Temple 
could  exist  only  in  one  place,  —  namely,  in  Jerusalem ; 
and  the  Temple  never  provided  instruction  for  the 
people,  but  simply  sacrificial  worship.  That  was  its 
solitary  function.  The  synagogue  provided  instruction 
but  never  sacrifice.  Synagogues  existed  in  every  con- 
siderable neighborhood  ;  and  there  were  a  great  many 
of  them  in  old  Jerusalem. 

Now,  we  must  not  judge  of  the  conduct  of  the  men 
who  occupied  that  official  relation  to  the  s3magogue,  by 
our  views  of  Christ.  We  have  never  had  any  doubt  in 
respect  to  his  divinity.  From  our  childhood  we  have 
seen  him,  not  as  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with 
grief,  but. as  glorified.  A  halo  hangs  in  our  imagina- 
tion round  about  his  head  when  we  think  of  him  ;  and 
he  is  the  openly  declared,  and  b}'  ages  honored,  Christ. 
But  he  came  among  his  countrymen  born  in  the  most 
inconspicuous  circumstances,  trained  among  the  poorest 


THE  APPROACH   OF   THE  PASSOVER.  203 

of  the  people,  and  without  the  advantages  of  education 
which  belonged  to  the  higher  classes.  He  came  in 
ways  that  tended  to  shock  many  of  the  prejudices  of 
his  own  people.  He  was  an  extremist,  judging  purely 
by  external  measurements.  He  came  as  a  reformer, 
uttering  disagreeable  truths  that  jarred  against  the 
conceit  and  the  vanity  and  much  of  the  patriotic  feel- 
ing of  the  Jews.  And  he  stirred  up  their  vindictive 
and  malign  passions, — for  they  were  strong  in  that 
direction.  He  came  apparently  disowned  by  the 
leaders  of  his  people.  Yet  he  represented  historic 
Judaism.  He  was  in  accord  with  Moses  and  the 
Mosaic  institutes.  Nevertheless,  he  was  a  disturber. 
And  when  men  in  official  relations  looked  at  him  he 
seemed  to  them  an  extraordinary  man.  But  they  did 
not  know  how  he  would  turn  out,  or  which  way  he 
would  go.  And  it  was  very  natural  that,  being  guided 
by  their  lower  nature,  they  should  hold  themselves  in 
reserve,  —  particularly  as  Jesus  had  formed  no  external 
church  as  separate  from  the  Jewish  church.  It  is  a 
striking  fact  that  he  never  gathered  about  him,  and 
never  organized,  any  band  of  men.  Even  the  disciples 
were  not  organized.  There  was  no  order,  no  rank,  no 
precedence,  among  them.  They  were  simply  twelve 
companions  united  in  a  common  cause,  as  twelve  men 
gathered  casually  together  by  elective  affinity  would 
go  on  a  journey  of  days  and  days,  not  organized,  but 
loosely  cohering  by  their  sympathies.  There  was  no 
organized  church,  nor  any  church,  in  Christ's  time. 
There  was  no  preparation  for  a  future  external,  visible 
kingdom.  There  was  no  plan  of  organization  laid 
down.  There  was  no  mode  of  worship  prescribed. 
Christ  was  a   pure   spiritualist.     He   taught  men    the 


204  Till-:  ArrnoACH  of  the  passover. 

innermost  truths.  He  almost  may  be  said  to  have 
neglected  the  external  forms  which  truths  must  put  on. 
He  left  the  externalities  of  religion  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  Where  any  inward  thought  tended  to 
give  itself  an  outward  form,  he  let  it  do  so  according  to 
its  own  nature,  lie- dealt  with  principles,  with  truths, 
with  great  spiritual  elements.  And  it  is  not  strange 
tliat  men  should  not  like  to  commit  themselves  to  a 
man  who  represented  nothing  but  an  intangible  and 
ill-apprehended  sjiiritual  tendency,  —  especially  as  he 
was  in  such  disrepute.  The  state  of  feeling  was  such 
in  reirard  to  Christ  that  it  Avould  have  brouirht  them 
into  collision,  and  perhaps  into  quarrel,  with  their  own 
class,  if  they  had  identified  themselves  with  him.  The 
spirit  of  their  class  was  such  that  these  men  Avere  slow 
to  break  away  from  them  for  the  sake  of  adhering  to 
Christ.  It  would  have  put  in  jeopardy  their  peace, 
their  harmonj^,  their  property,  and  their  reputation. 

There  was  another  thing.  Probably  they  were  men 
who  were  tired  of  disquiet.  All  their  days  there  had 
been  revolutions  breaking  out  incessantly  in  one  shape 
or  another.  Wild  rumors  that  the  Messiah  had  come 
would  start  the  people  now  and  then  in  this  direction, 
or  in  that  direction ;  and  they  had  been  stirred  up  so 
Tnuch  that  doubtless  then,  as  now,  there  were  many 
thoughtful  and  cautious  men  who  were  tired  of  these 
perpetual  disturbances,  and  these  pretentious  reforma- 
tions that  ended  in  nothing. 

So,  then,  if  we  look  at  it  from  the  standpoint  of 
hunian  experience,  they  did  not  act  in  an}^  extraor- 
dinary manner,  —  not  differently  from  what  men  are 
acting  every  day. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    LAST    PAEABLES. MAKYS    OFFERING. 

Jesus,  for  the  last  time  departing  from  the  Temple 
with  his  disciples,  passes  out  of  the  city,  and  crossing 
the  brook,  passes  over  and  np  into  the  Mount  of  Olives. 
It  was  probably  evening;  as  had  been  his  custom,  he 
was  preparing  to  pass  the  night  there.  Sitting  down, 
looking  back  with  longing,  loving  eyes  upon  the  city 
so  dear  to  his  heart,  and  thinking  of  the  people  whom 
he  so  loved  and  to  whom  he  would  be  so  much,  he  falls 
into  a  mournful  revery.  Before  his  eyes  rises  the  pro- 
phetic picture  of  the  future,  —  his  suifering  and  death  ; 
the  persecution  of  his  followers  ;  war  and  bloodshed, 
with  the  final  overthrow  of  that  great,  proud  city, 
which,  as  the  religious  home  of  his  people,  was  very 
dear  to  him. 

So  when  four  of  his  disciples  came  to  him  and  ques- 
tioned him  about  the  destruction  of  the  Temple,  his 
tongue  gave  utterance  to  his  thoughts,  and  in  mourn- 
fully dramatic  words  he  portrays  the  awful  picture  of 
the  future.  He  foretells  to  his  wondering  and  awe- 
struck disciples  the  coming  catastrophe. 

Then,  as  was  his  wont,  he  employs  his  favorite  means 
of  teaching  and  gives  them  parable  after  parable. 

We  are  at  a  loss,  in  considering  the  parables  of  the 
Saviour,  for  the  connections.  We  know  that  he  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  speaking  parable  after  parable  as 


206         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING. 

tliey  stand  in  the  text.  They  sprang  out  of  some 
event,  some  controversy,  some  foregoing  conversation, 
and  often  the  text  shows  us  what  it  was ;  but  the  latter 
part  of  the  Saviour's  hfe  grew  richer  and  richer  in  this 
respect.  As  he  came  more  and  more  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  divine  consciousness  the  truths  that  he 
tauu'ht  were  taught  in  a  hioher  strain. 

After  his  retreat  from  Gahlee  finally,  and  his  going 
to  Judiva,  the  controversy  that  he  held  with  the  scholars 
of  the  Temple  waxed  so  bitter  that  he  exiled  himself 
As  to  what  the  conmiunity  was,  what  were  the  habits 
of  the  people,  or  what  his  circumstances  were,  there  is 
no  trace  in  the  Gospel ;  and  yet  this  period  of  his  life 
was  the  richest  so  far  as  parables  were  concerned.  It 
is  the  Milky  Way  of  the  New  Testament.  There  are 
more  parables  clustered  over  that  little  space,  one 
might  almost  say,  than  over  all  the  rest  of  his  earthly 
career.  They  were  w^ebbed  together  by  history,  but 
that  history  is  all  lost  out ;  and  now  they  stand  like  so 
many  pearls,  each  of  which  came  from  some  separate 
shell. 

These  parables  are  especially  memorable  ;  the}''  are 
among  the  last  utterances  of  this  kind  of  our  Saviour. 
It  was  within  three  days  of  his  arrest  that  they  were 
spoken ;  we  do  not  know  but  that  they  are  the  very 
last  of  his  parabolic  teachings  ;  and  therefore  tliey  are 
invested  with  profound  interest.  We  listen  to  the  last 
words  of  those  that  are  going  forth  from  us,  if  they  be 
messages  of  love,  if  they  be  expressions  of  faith  and 
hope,  or  if  they  be  directions  for  our  guidance  in  life, 
with  great  care.  How  precious  it  is  to  us,  to  receive 
the  last  words  of  those  that  are  near  and  dear  to  us ! 
and  how  precious  must  the  last  w^ords  of  the  Saviour 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.        207 

be  to  us !  They  have  more  interest  for  us  than  that 
of  mere  sentiment.  Knowing  that  his  hour  was  come, 
feehng  the  approach  of  the  darkness,  and  through  it 
seeing  the  great  beyond,  how  intensely  must  his  mind 
have  wroiiglit  and  felt  the  things  that  he  said  ! 

In  the  first  part  of  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Mat- 
thew's Gospel  we  have  the  parable  of  the  Virgins,  the 
wise  and  the  foolish.  No  man  supposes  that  anything 
like  that  ever  took  place,  or  is  to  take  place,  or  founds 
upon  it  any  philosophical  system  which  shall  include 
the  fate  of  the  whole  human  race.  It  is  merely  a  con- 
veying to  the  souls  of  men  —  the  wise  virgins  and  the 
foolish  —  an  idea  of  the  necessity  of  spiritual  foresight 
and  preparation,  and  the  conception  that  a  religious 
and  manly  life  is  not  a  life  got  up  at  hazards,  just  as  a 
garment  or  a  torch  would  be,  but  that  living  right  is  a 
business  such  that  a  man  must  take  it  up  and  carry  it 
on  all  the  time,  and  be  always  in  it ;  in  other  words, 
that  it  must  be  character,  and  not  perfunctory  action  ; 
and  when  that  is  accomplished  the  parable  has  brouo-ht 
forth  its  true  end. 

Next  comes  the  parable  of  a  man  travelling  into  a 
far  country,  delivering  his  goods  to  his  servants,  and 
holding  them  responsible  for  their  increase.  He  re- 
turns after  a  time,  and  summons  one  and  another  and 
another  before  him.  Thus  is  set  forth  the  doctrine  of 
our  responsibihty  for  development,  for  education,  for 
increasing  all  the  gifts  which  God  has  granted  to  us. 
It  presents  as  our  duty  in  respect  to  men  simple 
fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  duties  that  are  incumbent; 
and  as  it  respects  man  or  God,  fidelity  in  the  develop- 
ment of  our  whole  moral  character.  When  we  have 
that  idea  we  have  the  marrow  of  the  parable. 


208         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFEIIING. 

Then  comes  the  parable  of  the  Judgment.  Here  wo 
find  interpreters  saying,  "  Tliis  is  the  historical  account, 
with  some  embellishments,  of  the  last  great  judgment." 
It  may  be  or  it  may  not  be.  It  is  a  parable.  It  is  a 
picture  constructed  for  certain  great  ends. 

It  is  simply  a  magnificent,  dramatic  representation 
of  a  period  of  adjustment.  Whether  it  is  to  be  actual 
in  time,  or  whether  it  is  to  be  a  final  judgment  in  form, 
is  not  to  be  inferred  from  this  passage,  whatever  men 
may  think  about  it  from  other  evidence.  It  is  simply  a 
tribunal  of  judgment  for  the  sake  of  bringing  out  cer- 
tain great  phases  on  which  judgment  will  proceed.  If 
it  is  to  be  a  final  historical  fact,  on  which  the  kingdom 
of  God  and  the  human  soul  is  poised,  it  is  an  opening 
up  of  what  is  the  real  moral  constitution  of  human  life 
in  the  view  of  Christ  ;  and  it  is  done  by  the  represen- 
tation of  a  tribunal  which  answers  neither  to  one  thing, 
nor  to  another  exactly,  but  which  has  in  it  some  ele- 
ments of  one  thing,  and  some  of  another, —  a  court, 
with  all  the  courtiers  brought  around  about,  and  the 
frown  of  the  King  on  one  part,  and  his  smile  on  the 
other  part.  Then  there  are  also  certain  elements  of 
the  judicial  system,  in  that  one  part  are  frowned  on 
upon  certain  specifications  of  wrong,  and  the  other 
part  are  smiled  on  upon  certain  specifications  of  right 
in  their  career.  It  is  a  figure  whose  colors  are  drawm 
both  from  a  court  in  a  kingdom  and  from  a  court  as  a 
civil  tribunal.  It  is  a  parable  that  is  spoken  in  the 
face  of  tlic  Jewish  prejudice  toward  the  Gentiles. 

"  When  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and 
all  the  angels  wnth  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the 
throne  of  his  glory." 

In  these   few   words    the   clouds   are    swept   away, 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  —  MARY'S   OFFERING.        209 

the  heaven  is  seen  to  be  radiant,  throni^s  of  ano-els 
appear  in  the  background,  and  the  Judge  sits  to  await 
those  that  shall  be  brought  before  him.  It  is  declared 
that  "  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations."  The 
word  which  otherwhere  is  translated  "  nations,"  or 
"Gentiles,"  signifies  the  whole  world.  The  first  two 
parables  might  be  considered  as  applying  especially 
to  the  Jews,  as  God's  chosen  people,  but  this  one  em- 
braces all  the  earth.  The  great  human  family  are 
grouped  together  before  the  Judge  of  all  mankind. 
Prejudices  of  every  kind  are  overlooked,  and  here  is  a 
pictorial  tribunal  that  is  to  represent  what  are  the  ele- 
ments that  will  be  employed  of  God  in  discriminating 
between  one  and  another  of  the  human  family,  —  Jew 
and  Gentile,  bond  and  free,  Greek  and  barbarian,  high 
and  low,  pagan  and  Christian.  The  illustration  is 
drawn  from  the  shepherd's  habit  of  dividing  his  flock. 

"  Then  shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his  right 
hand,  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world  ;  for  I  was  ahungered,  and  ye  gave  me  drink  : 
I  w^as  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in  :  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me  :  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me:  I  was  in 
prison,  and  ye  came  unto  me." 

Now,  it  will  be  observed  that  there  is  an  utter 
absence  of  all  the  ordinary  tests  of  religious  worthiness. 
There  is  nothing  said  about  prayerfulness,  or  reading 
the  Scripture,  or  sacrifice,  or  worship,  or  faith,  or  hope. 
It  was  deeds  of  humanity  that  were  spoken  of.  Wher- 
ever there  was  sickness  or  trouble,  there  was  compas- 
sion, pity,  and  helpfulness.  These  were  the  things 
that  were  commended  and  rewarded.  In  that  great 
judgment  scene,  where  the  whole  human  family  were 

VOL.    II.  —  14 


2 1  0    THE   LA  S  T  PARABLES.  —  M.  I  A'  Y  '5  OFFERING. 

divided,  the  only  test  applied  was,  not  as  to  Avhether 
they  were  good  parents  or  good  friends,  not  as  to 
whether  they  were  kind  to  those  that  they  loved ;  but 
as  to  whether  they  were  humane  toward  those  that 
were  not  of  them,  —  toward  strangers,  toward  those 
that  were  sick  and  were  a  burden  on  their  hands,  even 
toward  men  that  were  under  pain  and  penalty  as  crimi- 
nals. It  was  to  such  as  had  fed  the  hungry,  and  given 
drink  to  the  thirsty,  and  relieved  the  suffering,  and 
ministered  to  those  that  were  in  prison  that  he  said, 
"  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom 
prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 

Their  reply  showed  that  they  were  not  conscious 
that  they  had  shown  mercy ;  that  this  w^as  not  a  thing 
gotten  up  on  their  part ;  that  it  was  not  a  charity  en- 
forced as  a  dut}^  or  as  the  price  of  salvation  ;  that  it 
was  the  inherent,  spontaneous,  automatic  action  of 
their  nature. 

"  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee  ahungered,  and  fed  thee? 
or  thirsty  and  gave  thee  drink  ?  When  saw  we  thee  a 
stranger,  and  took  thee  in?  or  naked,  and  clothed  thee? 
Or  when  saw  we  thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto 
thee?" 

The  King  said  unto  them,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  when  Christ  was 
speaking  thus  he  was  not  speaking  to  a  select 
audience.  His  audiences  were  never  what  would  be 
called  respectable.  He  never  had  a  cultured  and  re- 
fined audience.  He  spoke  of  the  whole  race  of  men, 
good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  —  of  harlots,  and  robbers,  and 
criminals  of  every  sort,  of  the  helpless  and  hopeless,  as 


THE  LA6T  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFER/NO'.        211 

well  as  of  the  better  classes, — when  he  said,  "  Inas- 
much as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  did 
it  unto  ine." 

To  what  depths  that  went  I  What  a  far-reaching 
scope  it  has!  Christ  identifies  himself  with  the  human 
race,  not  at  the  top  alone,  but  also  at  the  bottom.  The 
lowest  man  has  such  sacredness  in  him  before  God  tliat 
he  who  treats  him  with  kindness  treats  God  with  kind- 
ness, and  he  who  buffets  him  buffets  God.  The  sweep 
of  this  truth  is  that  every  human  being  stands  before 
us  in   the  place  of  God. 

Though  these  parables  were  apparently  addressed  to 
his  disciples,  it  is  highly  improbable  that  they  alone 
made  up  his  audience  at  that  time.  The  Mount  of 
Olives  was  but  a  short  walk  from  the  city,  so  con- 
veniently accessible  that  probably  a  large  number  of 
people  were  present  listening  to  Jesus's  words,  or 
watching  for  some  new  miracle.  As  he  ceased  speak- 
ing and  darkness  grew  on,  doubtless  the  throng 
thinned  out  gradually  until  Jesus  and  his  disciples 
were  left  alone   to  seek   their   rest  in   sleep. 

They  had  returned  again  to  Bethany ;  the  end  was 
fast  approaching.  The  rulers  were  growing  more  de- 
termined and  more  desperate.  Some  device  must  be 
found  by  which  they  can  seize  him  without  a  collision 
with  the  people  ;  once  in  custody,  some  pretext  would 
readily  be  found   for  condemning  him. 

While  they  plotted  in  Jerusalem,  Jesus,  though  fully 
conscious  of  the  end,  and  i;s  nearness,  composed,  un- 
disturbed, mingled  with  apparent  unconcern  among  his 
friends,  and  accepted  their  hospitality.  He  was  then 
a  guest  of  Simon  the  leper.  A  supper  was  made  for 
him.     Some,  and   probably   all,  of  his    disciples  were 


212         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING. 

present.  Lazarus  was  a  guest,  while  Martha,  who 
must  of  course  be  doing,  assisted  serving.  Mary,  at 
first,  apparently  was   absent  from   the  room. 

But  as  the  Master  sat  at  meat,  to  the  surprise  of 
every  one,  this  quiet,  thoughtful,  retiring,  shrinking 
Mary,  who  had  before  been  reprimanded  for  want  of 
interest  and  want  of  activity,  all  at  ouce  seemed 
seized,  as  it  were,  with  a  divine  inspiration  ;  and  she 
came,  unbidden,  unexpected,  unheralded,  and,  with 
the  strangest  of  all  actions,  —  with  a  fervor  that  had 
no  words  to  express  itself,  apparently  without  a 
word,  —  drew  near,  and  broke  the  alabaster  box  (per- 
haps crushed  it,  for  it  required  but  little  violence  to 
break  it),  pouring  the  spikenard  ointment,  which 
was  very  precious,  upon  the  head  of  Christ,  and  then 
upon  his  feet,  wiping  his  feet  with  her  hair.  We  are 
not  familiar  with  this  custom,  which  was  universal  in 
the  East ;  for  ointment  was  an  article,  not  only  of 
very  great  value,  but  of  universal  employment  in  ways 
which  are  altogether  dead  to  us.  Such,  however,  was. 
the  prevailing  custom  in  the  East;  and  it  had  a  reason 
in  the  rapid  evaporation  which  took  place  from  the 
skin  in  that  torrid  clime.  Nor  were  the  personal 
habits  of  the  people  in  that  day,  as  they  are  not  at 
this  time  in  many  parts  of  southern  Europe,  so  cleanly 
and  pure  that  they  could  bear  to  stand  in  their  own 
individual  perfume.  There  might  be,  therefore,  good 
re.'ison  for  hiding  any  disagreeable  scent  of  the  body 
which  might  exist.  So  ointment  was  served  to  guests, 
and  to  persons  of  distinction  especially.  It  was  gen- 
erally put  upon  the  head.  To  anoint  the  feet,  which 
usually  were  washed,  as  a  matter  not  of  honor  but  of 
convenience,  was  to  perform  the  washing  not  only, 
but  to  perform  it  with  signal  lionors  attached. 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  —  MARY'S  OFFERING.        2l3 

In  doing  this  act  Mary  gave  expression  to  her 
feelings  of  love  and  adoration  of  Clirist.  It  was  an 
exliibition  of  what  she  did  not  undei'stand  herself, — 
enthusiasm  of  feeling.  We  have  the  testimony  of  our 
Master  that  in  the  first  place  it  was  reverential.  It 
was  not  light,  gay,  trifling.  There  was  no  coquetry 
about  it.  It  did  not  partake  of  the  nature  of  undue 
familiarity.  It  had  in  it  the  sobriety  of  death  itself; 
and  although  we  are  not  to  understand  his  lanu-uao-e 
as  distinctly  implying  that  she  was  conscious  of  his 
coming  death,  and  that  her  action  was  inspired  by  that 
consciousness,  we  may  infer  that  he  meant  that  it  was 
a  fit  ceremonial  in  view  of  his  approaching  death. 

There  was  such  a  seriousness  in  it  that  he  said, 
"  Why  reprove  her  for  this  act  ?  She  hath  done  it 
for  my  burial.  It  is  an  act  suitable  for  my  funeral." 
It  reveals  the  deep  solemnity  which  there  was  in  the 
action. 

But  how  did  this  act  strike  the  disciples  ?  It  seems 
to  have  grated  harshly  on  their  feelings.  The  ma- 
jority of  them  were  not  able  to  comprehend  any  such 
thing.  A  plain  and  literal  nature  never  can  under- 
stand a  deep  and  enthusiastic  nature  ;  and  the  capacity 
to  understand  men  is  difficult  in  the  ratio  in  which 
the  person  spoken  of  is  acting  on  lines  higher,  and 
on  a  plane  superior  to  that  according  to  which  the 
critic  is  judging.  Matthew,  perhaps,  looked  upon  it 
with  a  sobriety  which  befitted  a  man  who  had  sat 
much  at  the  receipt  of  custom.  He  had  estimated 
things  in  life.  He  was  a  great  financier.  He  was 
a  man  of  plain,  sober  judgment.  He  was  one  that  we 
would  call  a  profoundly  matter-of-fact  man.  Doubtless 
he  and  the  others  thought,  ^''  It  is  in  bad  taste,  the  break- 


214         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING. 

ing  in  upon  a  festal  occasion  like  this  with  such  an 
act.  If  she  had  wished  to  do  it,  the  way  would  have 
been  to  have  taken  some  other  time,  which  woidd  not 
have  been  in  disagreement." 

There  was  also  a  man  with  a  commercial  spirit  who 
looked  upon  this  act  with  disapproval.  His  name  was 
Judas  Iscariot.  It  is  said  in  Mark  that  certain  among 
them  murmured  ;  in  Matthew  it  is  said  that  the  dis- 
ciples murmured ;  but  in  John  it  is  said  that  Judas^ 
who  betrayed  him,  spoke.  Collecting  the  facts  from 
all  these  sources,  it  would  seem  as  though  Judas  had 
an  eye  to  commerce  in  this  matter.  The  thought 
which  he  had  was,  "  This  is  very  precious  stuff  to  be 
used  in  that  wa3\"  He  did  not  think  of  it  in  the 
light  of  love  at  all.  It  is  not  probable  that  Judas 
was  a  man  of  very  fine  sentiments;  and  when  he  be- 
held this  act  of  affection  and  fidelity,  he  weighed  it 
in  the  scales  of  the  store,  and  not  in  the  scales  of 
the  sanctuary;  and  he  said,  ''To  what  purpose  is  this 
waste  ?  "  He  was  shocked  that  so  precious  an  article 
of  commerce  as  this  ointment  should  be  wasted  by 
being  poured  upon  the  head  and  feet  of  the  Saviour; 
and  it  would  seem  that  the  other  disciples  were  mis- 
led in  the  matter,  and  that  they  sided  w'ith  Iiim. 
The  beauty  of  the  act  struck  no  one  of  them  ;  and 
our  Master  rebuked  them  all. 

There  was  but  once  in  her  lifetime  that  Mary  could 
bestow  upon  Jesus  any  such  tokon  of  affection.  If 
that  moment  had  gone  by,  never  would  there  have 
been  another  like  it.  And  Jesus  said,  "  Me  ye  have 
not  always  with  you :  the  poor  ye  have  with  you 
always,"  —  for  the  pretence  upon  which  Judas  had 
condemned    this   proceeding    was    that   this   ointment 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.— MARY'S   OFFERING.        215 

might  have  been  sold  for  three  hundred  pence,  and 
given  to  the  poor.  John  rather  briefly  and  curtly  says 
of  Judas,  "  He  said  this  because  he  was  a  thief,  and 
carried  the  bag."  It  was  to  have  gone  into  the  treas- 
ury ;  and  if,  as  he  thought  it  seemed  likely,  there  was 
to  be  a  dispersion  of  this  little  band,  in  the  scattering 
he  would  convey  away  what  was  in  the  bag. 

This  last  emphatic  title  would  seem  to  do  away  with 
the  fine-spun  theories  which  would  alleviate  the  guilt 
of  Judas.  He  was  an  extremely  avaricious  man ; 
avarice  was  his  leading  trait;  he  found  fault  with 
tokens  of  affection  for  avaricious  reasons,  and  finally 
he  sold  his  Master  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Three 
hundred  pence  he  thought  ought  to  have  been 
saved ;  he  regarded  it  as  having  been  squandered  on 
Jesus;  but  he  sold  him  afterwards  for  about  sixty 
pence.  This  character  of  Judas,  and  this  delineation 
of  his  interit)r  motives,  seem  to  set  aside  the  idea  which 
has  been  suggested  by  some,  that  he  expected  to  sell 
Christ  and  then  get  him  back  again,  so  that  he  would 
have  the  money,  and  nobody  would  receive  any  dam- 
ao'e.     It  was  altogether  an  avaricious  transaction. 

So  they  whispered  among  themselves.  One  said  one 
thing,  and  another  another.  And  to  such  extent  did 
they  carry  their  murmurings  that  our  Saviour  was 
obliged  to  rebuke  them.  With  some  degree  of  author- 
ity he  said,  "  Let  her  alone.  Why  do  you  trouble 
her  ?  That  which  she  hath  done  she  hath  done  in  the 
sanctity  of  love.  I  accept  it  as  a  preparation  for  my 
burial.  Yea,  there  is  such  value  in  this  spontaneous 
offering  of  her  soul,  expressed  through  the  symboliza- 
tion  of  this  ointment,  that  there  shall  not  be  a  child 
born  in  Christendom  after  my  time  that  shall  not  know 


21 G         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S  OFFERING. 

the  value  which  I  put  upon  a  heartrthrob,  an  enthu- 
siasm, a  sentiment,  a  ministration  of  the  soul,  —  not  its 
market  value,  not  its  poetic  value,  not  its  philosophic 
value,  but  the  value  which  it  has  in  the  realm  where 
beinsc  is  the  ij-reat  thino;." 

One  of  the  most  exquisite  features  in  the  life  of 
Christ  was  the  sympathy  that  he  showed  with  the 
helplessness  of  soul-weakness.  He  sympathized  with 
the  leper,  and  with  the  lame,  and  the  halt,  and  the 
fever-struck  ;  we  know  that,  it  is  very  plain  ;  but 
there  runs  all  through  his  life  a  chain  of  events  which 
show  that  he  discerned  also  the  most  delicate,  subtle 
soul-needs,  and  was  in  the  tenderest  relation  to  them. 

Thus  when,  a  few  days  before,  he  sat  in  the  Tem- 
ple, and  the  great  brazen  treasury  was  opened  for 
men  to  put  in  their  gifts  on  the  appointed  and  appro- 
priate day,  and  the  rich  Jews  from  Alexandria  came 
up  and  threw  in  their  handfuls  of  rattling  gold  ;  and 
the  rich  Jew^s  from  Athens  came,  not  to  be  outdone, 
with  ample  gifts ;  and  the  rich  Jews  from  Rome  came 
with  the  eagle  on  their  coins,  and  threw  these  into  the 
rapidly  filling  treasury,  —  there  came  limping  up  a 
poor  little  dried-up  old  woman,  half-blind,  who,  fum- 
bling in  the  capacious  emptiness  of  her  pocket,  found 
two  mites,  which  she  put  in  ;  and  he  said,  "  See  her,  she 
has  given  more  than  all  of  them ;  she  has  given  her 
whole  living.  They  have  merely  taken  a  crumb  from 
the  loaf  of  their  abundance,  but  this  poor,  infirm  old 
widow  has  given  everything  she  has." 

What  an  exquisite  stroke  of  spiritual  perception  is 
there  !  What  sympathy  with  the  helplessness  of  a  soul 
that  is  too  poor  to  do  anything  it  would  do,  and  yet 
too  rich  not  to  do  something  where  everybody  is  doing 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         2l7 

little  or  more  !  The  gifts  of  poverty  that  go  with  sighs 
and  often  with  humiliation  because  they  are  so  poor, 
Christ  understood  and  understands. 

And  this  outburst  of  Mary's  was  understood.  The 
act  was  pure  sentiment ;  it  was  a  love-offering.  It 
asked  for  nothing ;  it  sought  nothing  but  to  express 
itself.  Tt  was  an  invisible  pain  of  loving,  that  longed 
to  give  some  outward  token  to  the  object  of  love  ; 
and  surely,  none  more  beautifid  than  a  fragrant  per- 
fume put  upon  the  head  of  the  person  loved  could  be  a 
symbol  of  that  inward  state.  It  was  an  airy  sentiment, 
not  a  practical  deed.  "  She  hath  done  what  she  could." 
There  was  an  element  of  helplessness  in  it  that  touched 
the  great  heart  of  Jesus.  "She  hath^done  it  for  my 
burial."  She  did  not  know  it,  but  he  knew  it ;  and 
he  interpreted  its  value  to  his  disciples  in  this,  that 
everybody  believed  that  as  a  token  of  final  affection 
and  respect  they  that  are  about  to  be  buried  should  be 
wrapped  in  spices  and  carried  to  their  tomb.  There 
was  a  point  of  connection  between  the  ideas  regnant 
and  the  despised  act  of  this  poor  woman.  "If  I  had 
been  about  to  be  buried  you  would  not  have  had  a 
word  to  say.  Well,  this  is  my  anointing  ;  I  accept  it 
as  a  thing  done  beforehand,  in  honor  of  my  burial." 
That  put  it  on  a  ground  which  they  could  understand. 
"  And  what  this  woman  has  done,  wherever  my  gospel 
shall  be  preached  to  the  end  of  the  world,  it  shall  be 
mentioned,  and  shall  be  a  memorial  of  her." 

This  is  one  of  the  blossom  scenes  in  the  history  of 
Christ.  A  kind  of  exquisite  element  runs  through  it. 
There  is  very  little  outwardness  to  it.  The  scene  itself 
is  remarkable  on  many  accounts ;  but  the  chord  struck 
is  one  that  every  rude  hand   does  not  strike  ;  and  it 


218         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  —  MARY'S   OFFERING. 

does  not  vibrate  to  any  except  the  truest  touch.  It  is. 
in  an  indirect  way,  the  value  put  upon  sentiment,  a£ 
distinguished  from  all  other  useful  or  excellent  things. 

The  perfume  of  that  broken  vase  has  now  been 
exhaling  for  two  thousand  years,  and  the  odor  of  it 
fills  the  heavens,  and  is  sweet  in  perfume  to-day ;  it 
is  recognized  by  hundreds  and  thousands  more  than  in 
the  days  when  the  words  were  spoken. 

It  seems  evident  that  the  rebuke  aduiinistered  by 
Jesus  w^as  intended  more  for  Judas ;  there  must  have 
been  some  accompanying  look,  or  unrecorded  act,  full  of 
significance  to  him,  for  he  appears  suddenly  to  have 
been  filled  wdth  a  spirit  of  intense  malevolence  toward 
his  Master. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  context  to  indicate  that  the 
Jews  first  approached  and  tempted  Judas,  but  rather 
the  implication  is  that  he  voluntarily  sought  them  out 
and  made  to  them  the  first  overtures.  He  wasted  no 
time  in  excuses  or  preliminaries,  but  came  at  once  to 
the  matter  in  hand.  "  What  will  you  give  me  if  I 
betray  this  Jesus,  and  deliver  him  to  you?"  Where 
both  sides  are  eager  it  does  not  take  long  to  agree  on 
the  price.  The  bargain  was  soon  made,  and  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver,  a  price  that  has  furnished  to  all  time 
the  proverbial  value  of  treachery,  he  offered  to  sell  his 
Master.  The  conspirators  counsel  together  and  seek 
for  some  way  of  carrying  this  new  plan  into  operation. 
Ultimately  it  is  left  to  the  traitor  Judas  to  discover 
and  report  the  opportunity  when  they  may  seize  Jesus 
"  conveniently,  in  the  absence  of  the  multitude." 

The  feast  of  unleavened  bread  had  come,  the  first 
day  of  the  Passover. 

This   great   national   feast,    commemorative   of    the 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         219 

divine  protection  which  Jehovah  had  shown  to  his 
chosen  people,  Jesus  proposed  to  observe  in  Jerusalem, 
the  mother  city  of  the  Jews.  As  yet  nothing  had  been 
done  to  prepare  for  it.  The  disciples  came  to  Jesus  to 
know  where  he  would  eat  the  Passover,  that  they 
might  prepare  for  it.  He  sends  Peter  and  John  into 
Jerusalem,  for  they  were  still  in  Bethany,  with  instruc- 
tions as  to  how  they  should  find  a  suitable  place.  Find- 
ing the  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water,  they  follow  him 
to  his  house  and  say  unto  him,  "  The  Master  saith  unto 
thee,  '  My  time  is  at  hand,  I  will  keep  the  Passover  at 
thy  house.  Where  is  the  guest-chamber,  where  I  shall 
eat  the  Passover  with  my  disciples  ? '  "  And  when  they 
are  shown  into  the  room,  all  furnished  and  prepared, 
they  made  ready  for  the  feast.  The  evening  having 
come,  Jesus  with  the  band  of  disciples  repaired  to  the 
house  where  the  preparation  had  been  made  and  sat 
down  to  eat  the  feast. 

Sitting  almost  in  the  shadow  of  the  cross,  blind  to 
all  they  had  seen  and  deaf  to  what  Christ  had  so  often 
told  them,  and  which  his  words  introductory  to  the 
feast  foretells  again,  unconscious  of  the  sublime  self- 
sacrifice  that  was  to  culminate  their  Master's  w^ork  on 
earth,  the  disciples  again  quarrelled  among  themselves 
for  eminence  in  the  coming  kingdom.  Jesus  rebukes 
them,  emphasizing  the  words  by  his  sublime  example. 

In  the  hour  of  vision,  in  the  hoin^  of  the  descending 
inspiration  of  heaven  upon  him,  in  the  hour  when  the 
horizon  cleared  for  a  moment,  and  the  light  of  his 
glory  came  down  upon  him,  he  made  himself,  in  the 
presence  of  his  disciples,  a  slave,  and  undertook  to  per- 
form the  most  menial  offices,  in  order  to  teach  them 
that  the  duty  of  all  eminence  is  to  serve  all  that  are 
needy,  poor,  and  neglected.  -^ 


220      THE  LAST  PARABLES.— Mary* s  offering. 

Christ  was  subject  to  luminous  hours,  as  men  are,  and 
this  was  an  hour  in  which  he  knew  and  felt  in  all  its 
reality,  "  I  came  from  God,  I  am  about  to  return  to 
God."  Then  he  took  his  basin  and  washed  his  dis- 
ciples' feet,  and  said  to  them,  "  If  I,  your  Lord  and 
Master,  have  washed  your  feet,  you  ought  to  wash  one 
another's  feet.  I  am  of  God,  and  I  return  ere  long  to 
God,  and  I  set  you  this  example.  The  nature  of  God 
is  to  take  care  of  the  bottommost  thing's  in  creation, 
the  weak,  the  needy,  the  poor,  the  sinful,  the  inexpert. 
It  is  the  eternal  burden  of  the  divine  government,  as 
it  werO;  to  wash  the  feet  of  the  universe,  to  do  the 
lowest  offices,  to  take  care  of  those  that  most  need  his 
care.     This  it  is  to  be  God." 

These  last  scenes  of  our  Lord  upon  earth  defy  expo- 
sition. His  own  soul  rose  so  manifestly  into  the  higher 
realm ;  his  presentation  of  truth  became  so  ethereal, 
it  was  so  fiir  above  the  level  of  interpretation,  that  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  follow  his  discourses,  w'liich  seem 
enigmatical,  mystical,  and  from  their  very  brightness, 
obscure.  There  is  no  part  of  the  closing  history  of  the 
Saviour's  life  that  is  more  wonderftd  than  the  record 
which  John  makes  of  his  last  interviews  with  his  dis- 
ciples. All  those  clustering  chapters  of  John  —  the  fif- 
teenth, the  sixteenth,  the  seventeenth,  and  on  —  were 
a  part  of  the  great  event  of  the  Supper.  They  were  the 
conversations  which  took  place  at  the  time  of  the  Supper, 
and  in  intimate  connection  with  it.  They  are  full  of 
what  may  be  called  a  love-lore,  such  as  is  to  be  found  in 
no  other  literature,  and  such  as  refuses  to  be  inter- 
preted by  the  ordinary  love-literature  of  human  society. 
Such  love,  so  high,  so  full  of  divine  intellection,  so  full  of 
spiritual  impulse,  so  full  of  regrets  tempered  by  a  better 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         221 

knowledge,  so  full  of  aspiration,  so  full  of  faith,  so  ten- 
der, so  gentle,  touching  the  human  soul  on  all  sides  so 
potently —  we  know  not  where  to  look  for  anything,  till 
we  hear  it  from  the  lips  of  God  in  heaven,  that  can  be 
compared  with  this  representation  in  those  chapters  in 
John,  —  chapters  which  have  this  trouble:  that  they 
are  like  fruit-trees  which  grow  so  high  that  children 
stepping  under  them  can  take  only  windfalls,  being 
unable  to  reach  up  into  the  boughs,  where  the  fruit  is 
ripest,  and  where  the  sun  has  given  it  its  best  colors. 
Men  are  so  small,  and  the  tree  is  so  high,  that  it  is  only 
through  the  medium  of  higher  forms  of  experience, 
which  are  not  given  to  all,  and  which  are  seldom  vouch- 
safed to  any,  that  one  can  enter  into  these  discourses 
and  interpret  them/ 

It  was  in  one  of  these  conversations  that  the  Saviour 
declared  to  his  disciples  that  he  must  leave  them.  On 
him  their  whole  souls  had  rested.  He  epitomized  to 
them  everything  that  was  sacred ; .  they  had  forsaken 
occupation  and  had  suffered  contumely  for  following 
this  man,  and  now  he  was  about  to  be  taken  from 
them;  and  everything  in  their  knowledge,  everything 
in  their  affection,  everything  in  their  understanding, 
rebelled  against  it.  They  could  not  comprehend  it 
either  in  its  relations  to  him  or  to  themselves.  And 
yet  he  said,  "It  is  expedient  for  you  [it  is  for  your 
own  interest,  it  is  for  your  own  good]  that  I  go  away." 

We  cannot  help  sympathizing  with  the  disciples.     It 

^  I  confess  that  I  am  stopped  in  a  labor  of  love,  in  attempting  to  unfold 
the  life  of  Christ.  I  have  come  to  the  verge  of  what  are  called  "  the  forty 
days,"  and  the  mountains  are  so  high  and  so  dazzling  that  I  hardly  know 
how  to  climb  them,  or  what  to  do  with  them.  They  reach  far  above  any 
power  that  I  have,  so  I  wait  and  hope.  —  Extract  from  a  sermon  on  this 
passage. 


222         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — M AMY'S   OFFERING. 

seems  as  unfit  to  our  lower  judgment  that  Christ 
should  have  abandoned  the  earth  and  his  struggling 
cause  as  it  seemed  to  the  disciples  themselves. 

Look  for  a  moment.  How  imperfect,  apparently, 
was  the  work  that  he  had  come  to  do !  He  had  mani- 
fested himself  in  that  little  inconspicuous  province. 
He  had  lived  there  but  a  little  over  thirty  years.  He 
had  been  rejected.  The  whole  church  of  his  people 
had  refused  him.  He  was  not  accredited.  He  had  not 
written  one  single  work.  His  teaching  had  been  com- 
mitted to  the  memory  of  the  few  that  heard  him  but 
did  not  understand  him.  It  is  a  striking  fact,  in  con- 
trast with  such  men  as  Plato,  Aristotle,  the  lawgivers 
(Solon  and  others),  who  reduced  the  wisdom  of  their 
life  to  exact  literary  form,  that  Christ,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  single  instance  in  which  he  stooped  and 
wrote  upon  the  ground,  is  not  known  to  have  made  a 
letter.  No  book,  no  system,  no  organization  of  an 
exterior  kind,  was  he  known  to  form.  For,  while  he 
dwelt  among  men  as  a  presence,  he  lived  as  a  spirit; 
and  the  fruit  of  his  life  was  a  spirit  infused  into 
human  life,  and  to  a  certain  degree,  converted  into 
definite  knowledge  ;  but  as  the  founder  of  a  new 
kingdom  and  a  new  life,  was  there  ever  any  one  like 
him  ?  No  foundations  laid  by  the  man  that  was  to 
build  the  temple  and  the  city !  No  work  of  perma- 
nent instruction  from  one  who  meant  that  his  name 
and  his  laws  should  go  through  the  whole  realm  of 
time  and  the  world  !  In  our  sense  of  the  term  he 
formed  no  church.  He  did  not  leave  any  ordinances 
such  as  men  have  very  properly  shaped  and  made  in- 
fluential by  putting  Christ's  name  on  them.  No  such 
church  did  he  form  as  that  historical  church  which  has 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         223 

come  down  to  us  through  the  ages,  as  a  caravan  comes 
through  the  wilderness,  burdened  with  vast  quantities 
of  things,  —  useful  or  not,  as  the  case  may  be. 

So  his  work  apparently  was  a  new  work ;  and  that 
he  should  have  left  the  earth  without  any  such  pro- 
vision for  the  propagation  of  his  gospel  and  the  main- 
tenance of  his  life  in  the  souls  of  men,  strikes  persons 
with  surprise  when  it  is  clearly  brought  before  them,  as 
compared  with  the  way  in  which  men  work,  and  have 
worked,  and  probably  must  work  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

And  then  the  helpless  state  in  which  he  left  his  dis- 
ciples !  He  found  them  peasants ;  he  left  them  no 
better.  They  had  consorted  with  him ;  but  they  knew 
almost  nothing  of  his  interior  life,  his  true  life.  With 
one  or  two  exceptions  they  were  not  men  of  any  natu- 
ral talent.  They  certainly  did  not  show  themselves  to 
be  men  of  spiritual  insight.  They  were  children  ;  and 
at  the  time  when  he  declared  that  he  must  leave  them 
they  were  still  children.  It  was  not  until  after  he  had 
gone  away  from  them  that  the  Spirit  of  promise  was 
disclosed,  and  that  they  were  inspired  to  enter  upon  a 
higher  life.  To  have  left  them  in  that  condition  seems 
very  strange  when  you  judge  it  from  the  standpoint  of 
human  wisdom. 

And  the  state  of  the  world  everywhere  was  not  one 
which  seemed  to  justify  his  leaving  it.  When  Cyrus, 
or  Alexander,  or  any  other  great  conqueror,  had  en- 
tered the  precincts  or  boundary  of  any  nation  or  pro- 
vince, if  before  the  battle  was  joined,  or  before  victory 
was  accomplished  or  order  was  established,  he  had  left 
everything  to  his  subalterns  and  gone  back  to  his 
home,  his  course  apparently  would  have  resembled 
what  Christ  did,  who  came  to  subdue  this  world,  and 


224         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY' a   OFFERING. 

then,  after  a  few  years,  when  his  followers  had  just 
touched  the  borders  of  the  new  life,  abandoned  them 
and  went  up  on  high. 

And  see  how  unfit  the  disciples  were  to  do  that 
work.  They  were  not  eloquent.  They  had  no  rela- 
tions with  the  great  outside  world.  The  world,  in  its 
strength,  in  all  its  great  fortresses,  was  sensuous.  It 
stood  upon  the  foundation  of  physical  power.  It  knew 
almost  nothing  of  the  spiritual  kingdom  of  God.  If 
there  ever  was  a  case  in  which  one  should  have  stayed 
to  nourish  the  infant  cause,  and  increase  the  light  that 
flickered  on  the  wick,  and  give  courage  and  direction 
to  the  laborers,  it  would  seem  to  be  this  cause,  and  this 
Christ. 

What  supposition,  then,  may  we  form  of  the  effects 
of  his  remaining,  had  he  chosen  to  remain  ?  Men  say, 
"  Well,  there  could  have  been  no  doubt  that  there  was 
such  a  personage  ;  his  existence  could  not  be  denied. 
He  could  have  asserted  his  divinity  ;  that  could  not 
have  been  left,  as  it  were,  floating  in  the  air,  subject  to 
the  dictum  of  every  ingenious  and  fertile  reasoner. 
We  could  always  have  said, '  There  he  is,  in  Jerusalem.' 
Men  could  have  gone  there  and  communed  w^ith  him, 
and  returned  to  be  witnesses  in  towns  and  cities  and 
provinces;  and  the  world  would  have  been  saved  an 
immeasurable  amount  of  vacillation  and  uncertainty 
on  a  point  where  men  cannot  afford  to  be  uncertain. 
There  would  have  been  an  end  of  controversy.  There 
would  really  have  been,  at  last,  an  authority  in  the 
church.  There  would  have  been  no  voluminous  creeds, 
—  those  engines  at  once  of  guidance  and  of  torture. 
The  history  of  the  world  would  have  been  a  ver}^  dif- 
ferent history  from  what  it  is  if  we  had  had  a  captain  of 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         225 

our  Siilvation  alive  to  speak  for  himself,  to  speak  for 
his  followers,  to  correct  their  errors,  to  enlarge  the 
horizon  of  their  knowledge,  and  to  give  certainty  where 
there  is  doubt." 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  if  we  take  the  ordinary 
foundations  of  human  judgment  such  thoughts  are 
natural.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  suppose  Christ  had 
remained  in  Jerusalem ;  he  would  still  have  been 
"  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief"  His 
would  have  been  a  prolonged  probation  and  exile  from 
Heaven,  and  from  the  seat  and  source  of  his  greater 
power.  It  is  true  that  some  might  have  seen  him; 
but  the  access  of  human  thought  to  Christ  is  a  thou- 
sandfold greater,  now  that  he  is  in  heaven  and  is  to  be 
spiritually  invoked  and  conceived  of,  than  it  would  have 
been  if  he  had  remained  in  the  flesh  and  had  had  his 
seat  in  Jerusalem.  He  would  have  been  the  subject  of 
the  same  contentions  and  cliques  and  persecutions  as 
were  his  disciples  after  him.  All  that  certainty  which 
men  think  there  would  have  been  is  illusory.  Were 
men  certain  when  he  was  alive?  Were  the  disciples 
any  more  certain  than  we  are  ?  Was  his  word  law^  in 
his  own  time?  But  there  is  another  test,  for  later 
time.  In  the  judgment  of  hundreds  of  millions  of  men, 
he  has  left  an  infallible  successor  on  earth.  What  has 
Ijeen  the  result  ?  With  him  who  stands  among  men  in 
the  flesh  to  represent  Christ,  and  who,  in  the  belief  of 
myriads  is  the  infallible  interpreter  of  God's  truth  and 
man's  duty,  has  the  world  experienced  the  freedom 
from  uncertainty  that  was  expected  ?  Has  there  been 
an  end  of  controversy  ?  There  has  been  controversy 
still.  Has  there  been  an  end  of  doubt?  Men  hav^ 
doubted  as  much  as  ever. 

VOL.    II.  —  I.') 


226         TUE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S  OFFERING. 

There  «are  two  elements  that  settle  doubt.  One  is 
absolute  knowledge,  and  the  other  is  absolute  igno- 
rance. Where  men's  minds  are  inert  they  are  not 
troubled  with  doubt.  It  is  the  active  man's  mind 
that  is  troubled  with  doubt.  It  is  the  thinker  that 
is  troubled  with  doubt.  The  investigator,  the  ex- 
plorer, the  man  that  would  sweep  away  the  clouds  and 
enlarge  the  boundaries  of  knowledge  —  he  has  doubts, 
because  the  w^ay  of  exploration  is  a  way  of  uncertainty, 
a  tentative  way. 

There  have  been  myriads  of  men  who  have  been 
saved  from  doubt  by  the  existence  of  the  father  of  the 
great  Roman  Church ;  but  then,  they  never  had  any 
doubts.  The}^  accept  everything  he  says.  Why  not? 
They  do  not  know  one  thing  or  another ;  whatever  he 
says  they  take.  And  they  take  it  just  as  a  dead  man 
takes  a  message ;  he  does  not  contradict  it,  nor  does 
he  lift  himself  up  to  fight  it.  You  whisper  it  over  the 
bed  of  death,  and  he  does  not  rise  to  reply.  But  so  far 
as  active  men  are  concerned,  the  papal  authority  has 
determined  very  little.  There  are  just  as  many  con- 
tentions among  active,  thinking  minds  of  that  commun- 
ion as  there  are  among  us.  There  are  a  few  points  or 
questions  of  faith  that  have  been  decided  technically ; 
but  about  them  "  opinions,"  as  they  are  called,  are 
permitted.  A  man  may  believe  a  fact  because  it  has 
been  asserted  by  the  Pope  in  conclave ;  but  the  phi- 
losophy of  that  fact  has  not  been  settled.  In  other 
words,  those  questions  which  have  been  agitating  the 
whole  Protestant  world  have  not  been  settled.  They 
are  no  more  settled  in  the  Catholic  Church  than  they 
are  with  us.  There  is  a  peace  of  negatives  ;  but  there 
is  no  peace  of  affirmatives. 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  —  MARY'S   OFFERING.         227 

Then,  as  to  seeing  Christ,  men  could  not  have  made 
pilgrimages  to  see  him.  The  vast  stream  of  human  hfe 
could  not  have  risen  up  and  gone  to  Jerusalem  to  take 
him  by  the  hand,  to  be  blessed,  and  to  return.  There 
could  have  been  but  few,  comparatively  speaking,  from 
age  to  age,  that  could  have  discerned  the  King  in  his 
glory  at  Jerusalem,  had  he  sat,  as  the  Jews  hoped  he 
would,  on  his  throne  there. 

As  for  creeds,  he  left  us  the  only  creed  that  is  good 
for  anything.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself;  "  and, 
"  Every  one  that  loveth  is  born  of  God,  and  knoweth 
God ;  he  that  loveth  not  knoweth  not  God  ;  for  God  is 
love  "  —  this  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  orthodoxy  ; 
and  that  certainly  he  had  whose  life  was  one  rounded 
history  of  love.  That  is  the  very  centre  and  marrow 
of  the  gospel.  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave 
his  Son  to  die  for  it.  The  act  was  simply  that  which 
universal  consciousness  requires  as  the  highest  token  of 
affection.  As  Christ  interprets  it,  "  Greater  love  hath 
no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his 
friends.  "  He  died  for  us  while  yet  we  were  his  ene- 
mies. The  law  of  love  will  never  have  any  larger 
exemplification. 

That  is  the  creed  which  has  been  so  little  used.  It 
has  given  way  in  favor  of  hard,  metaphysical,  inexplica- 
ble tangles  of  statement  and  doctrine,  enforced  with 
fierce  combativeness,  and  oftentimes  with  destructive- 
ness  and  persecutions ;  the  whole  Christian  world  has 
divided  itself  up  into  phalanxes  that  Avill  not  train  to- 
gether in  the  great  army  of  God,  each  one  holding  to 
a  certain  creed,  or  a  certain  set  of  governments  or 
ordinances;    and    in    this    conflict    among    themselves 


228         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING. 

they  have  gone  on  crucifying  Christ  again  and  again, 
through  years  and  through  centuries,  dividing,  hating, 
rasping,  persecuting  each  other,  while  all  the  time  — 
hanffinu:  in  the  air,  and  almost  unused  —  is  the  one 
only  creed,  "  Thou  shalt  love." 

So  this  notion  that  Christ  would  have  rectified  creeds 
arises  from  a  total  misconception  of  the  genius  of  his 
administration. 

Had  he  remained  upon  earth  he  would,  it  is  thought, 
have  been  able  to  convince  men  by  miracles.  A  mir- 
acle is  nothing  but  a  higher  application  of  natural  law. 
It  is  not  a  miracle,  when  a  man  is  almost  dead,  for  a 
doctor  who  knows  something  about  natural  law  to  come 
in  and  bring  him  up  from  the  sick  bed.  Suppose  there 
was  a  phj'sician  who  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  that, 
and  who  could  bring  a  man  up  by  natural  law  from 
just  the  other  side  of  the  grave  ?  Is  there  not  a  knowl- 
edge of  natural  law  by  which  He  who  created  life  could 
recreate  life  as  he  created  it  by  natural  law  ?  That 
knowledge  is  hid  from  us;  but  it  is  not  hid  from  God. 
Natural  law  is  the  Divine  will ;  and  the  Divine  will 
is  not  stationary.  Just  so  much  has  been  revealed. 
There  are  methods  and  powers,  doubtless,  yet  in  re- 
serve ;  but  the  welfare  of  the  race  demanded  that  there 
should  be  a  continuity  of  experience  based  upon  the 
certainty  of  natural  law  ;  and  to  break  that  up  by  con- 
flicting systems  would  not  generally  be  wise,  although 
as  a  special  benevolence  it  might  be  wise  ;  for  you 
will  take  notice  that  Christ  (he  might  almost  be  said  to 
have  been  the  great  despiser  of  his  own  miracles)  said, 
•  substantially:  "Believe  me  for  my  words,  for  the 
truth  that  I  am  speaking  ;  but  if  you  will  not  do  that, 
then  believe  me  for  my  works,  for  the  marvels  that  I 


THE  LAST  PARABLES. ^MARY'S  OFFERING.        229 

perform.  If  there  be  men  who  have  hved  intelligently 
and  faithfully,  let  them  believe  me  on  account  of  the 
truth  that  I  speak ;  but  if  having  ears  they  hear  not, 
and  having  eyes  they  see  not,  if  they  are  stupid  and 
low-minded,  and  are  moved  by  that  which  startles  the 
ear,  or  by  wondrous  manifestations,  then  let  them  have 
that  rather  than  that  they  should  die." 

The  miracles  of  Christ  were  never  self-seeking. 
They  were  never  exactly  arguments,  even.  They 
were  benevolences.  He  healed  the  blind,  the  leper, 
the  fevered  patient.  It  was  all  a  part  of  that  system 
of  life  which  he  was  introducing  into  the  woi'ld. 
Wherever  he  went,  throngs  followed  him ;  he  received 
them  ;  he  healed  their  sick.  He  caused  a  wave  of  joy 
wherever  he  came,  because  they  were  of  such  a  low 
nature  that  a  marvel  or  a  visible  miracle  would  open 
their  eyes  enough,  perhaps,  to  enable  them  to  rise  up 
to  the  spiritual  things  of  his  kingdom. 

But  to  argue  the  continuity  of  such  a  system  would 
change  the  whole  method  of  the  government  of  God  in 
nature,  which  is  that  men  shall  work  out  their  own 
salvation.  This  world  is  constructed  upon  the  ground 
of  the  responsibility  of  men  to  work  out  for  themselves 
whatever  they  obtain.  It  is  not  designed  that  men 
should  have  without  giving  an  equivalent.  Life  and 
strength  are  bought  by  the  exertion  of  the  appliances 
of  men.  Knowledge  is  not  distilled  as  dew  from  the 
heavens.  Men  have  to  search  for  it  as  for  hidden 
treasure.  Doubts  have  to  be  resolved.  ProjDerty  must 
be  wrought  out  of  dead  or  dumb  nature.  Whatever 
men  get,  they  get  by  unfolding  themselves.  The  whole 
creation  was  germinant,  springing  from  germs ;  and 
the   law   of  unfolding  was   everywhere    putting   men 


230         TUB  LAST  PARAIILKS.  — MARY'S   OFFERING. 

under  such  influences  that  they  should  be  stimulated, 
step  by  step,  to  unfold,  to  develop ;  and  the  law  of  life 
is  that  men  shall  work  out,  inwardly  and  outwardly, 
their  own  salvation,  God  helping  them  all  the  time,  but 
laying  on  them  the  responsibility  of  helping  themselves. 

Men  say,  "  It  would  be  better  if  knowledge  had  been 
given  to  us  outright."  Why  was  it  not  just  as  easy  for 
God  to  write  a  geolog}'  as  to  wait  five  thousand  years 
for  men  to  dig  it  out?  Because  it  was  a  system  by 
which  men  should  develop  themselves  by  digging  it 
out.  Why  should  one  send  his  apprentice  into  the 
forge  to  find  the  instruments  already  made  for  his 
hand  —  the  sword,  and  the  pruning-hook  ?  Tf  they  are 
made  and  left  there  for  him,  when  will  he  learn  his 
trade  ?  If  he  is  left  there  and  works  it  out  by  himself, 
his  blunders  are  his  schoolmasters.  They  teach  him 
how  to  do,  and  when  he  has  learned  his  trade  his  trade 
has  developed  him.  The  fact  is,  this  is  not  a  world 
where  all  men  are  born  rich  men's  children,  and  lie  on 
silk  couches,  with  silver  spoons  in  their  mouths,  and 
are  fed  with  food  already  prepared  for  them.  Such  is 
not  the  system  under  which  we  live.  Men  are  born  at 
zero,  and  they  work  their  way  up  by  self-unfolding,  by 
self-development ;  that  is  God's  method  of  creation. 
It  is  the  method  in  physical  things  as  well  as  in  intel- 
lectual things.     It  is  socially  so  ;  it  is  morally  so. 

The  task  of  finding  out  duty,  of  solving  difficulties, 
is  a  means  of  grace,  and  lies  right  along  parallel  with 
the  whole  scheme  of  creation  ;  and  to  suppose  that 
Christ  was  to  stay  at  Jerusalem  so  that  everything 
should  be  fixed  and  there  should  be  no  more  care 
about  what  to  believe,  and  how  to  believe,  goes  right 
in  the  face  of  and  against  the  genius  of  this  scheme. 


THE  LAST  PARABLES.  — MARY'S   OFFERING.         231 

Then,  there  is  what  might  be  considered  the  final 
and  transcendent-  reason,  and  that  is  that  the  whole 
course  of  providence  is  one  that  leads  a  man  away 
from  matter  and  the  senses  which  recognize  it,  toward 
the  spirit.  The  flower  of  life  is  the  invisible  part  of 
man.  Paul  apparently  teaches  that  there  are  two  men 
encased  always,  —  that  there  is  an  inward  spiritual  man, 
and  an  outward  physical  man.  Without  exactly 
adopting  that  interpretation,  we  may  say  he  certainly 
teaches  that  there  is  a  foundation  on  which  the  true 
man  is  built,  and  that  that  foundation  is  the  animal 
man.  All  the  elements  of  bodily  organization  —  the 
appetites,  the  passions,  and  the  organisms  which  they 
employ  —  in  men  and  in  the  lower  race  of  animals,  or 
rather  the  mammal  class,  are  just  the  same ;  but  God 
breathed  the  breath  of  life,  the  spirit,  the  soul,  into 
man  ;  and  the  God-given  elements  of  man's  spiritual 
nature  are  at  strife  with  that  animal  nature  which 
coexists  with  them. 

The  whole  scheme  of  providence  and  revelation  is 
that  man  is  to  deny  himself,  —  his  lower  self,  his  pas- 
sions and  appetites,  —  that  he  is  to  unfold  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  invisible  and  the  spiritual ;  and  therefore 
we  find  the  course  of  grace,  as  well  as  the  course  of 
nature,  tending  in  that  direction. 

Now  consider  that  if  Christ,  or  any  other  visible  or 
tangible  potentate  in  his  place,  had  remained  at  Jeru- 
salem, we  should  have  drawn  near  to  him  almost 
wholly  by  the  aid  of  our  physical  reason  or  organiza- 
tion ;  whereas  now  he  is  never  seen,  but  must  be 
imagined  by  us.  All  our  hope  is  centred  in  a  world 
that  we  never  see.  And  what  a  prodigious  attraction 
is    there    as    one    after    another   we    send    up    to    the 


232         THE  LAST  PARABLES.  —  MARY'S   orFERING. 

heavenly  city  —  in  which  we  beUeve,  but  which  we 
have  never  seen  —  our  father,  our  mother,  our  brothers 
and  sisters,  husband  and  wife,  children  grown,  children 
just  fledged,  and  unlledged  babes  in  the  nest,  to  the 
great  world  out  of  which  comes  no  voice,  no  joy,  no 
musical  notes  !  Everything  that  we  love  and  that  is 
dear  to  us  goes  away  into  the  unsearchable  and  invisible 
land ;  and  what  a  power  there  is  brought  to  bear  upon 
every  one  of  us  to  use  that  part  of  our  nature  which 
works  in  the  direction  of  the  invisible  !  Not  our  bodilj' 
agents  (the  world  demands  them,  and  gives  them  all 
the  exercise  that  they  require),  but  our  spiritual  being, 
is  developed  by  the  conditions  which  we  serve  ;  and 
though  they  are  nnseen,  though  they  are  quite  invisible 
to  us,  they  are  manifested  by  the  stimulus  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  to  our  inward  life  and  nature ;  and  so  we  are 
perpetually  drawn  away  from  time  to  that  spiritual 
existence  on  which  depends  the  whole  of  our  future 
life. 

Whatever  doubts  there  may  be  on  other  points,  of 
one  thing  there  is  no  doubt,  and  that  is  that  if  a  man 
is  to  be  developed  so  as  to  live  without  a  body,  so  as  to 
be  a  purely  spiritual  being,  the  whole  course  of  Christ's 
life,  all  his  writings  and  all  the  tendencies  of  the  gos- 
pel are  in  that  direction.  "  We  live  by  faith,"  says 
the  apostle,  "  and  not  by  sight."  We  live  by  believing 
things  which  we  do  not  see,  nor  handle,  nor  touch. 


Gf.tiiskmane. 


CHAPTER   XXXT. 

Christ's  betrayal,  trial,  and  crucifixion. 

There  was  a  particular  place  on  the  Mount  of 
Olives,  and  in  Getlisemane,  to  which  Christ  often  re- 
sorted. It  was  a  sacred  place  to  him ;  it  is  said,  "  for 
Jesus  often  repaired  thither  with  his  disciples."  So  it 
would  seem  that  he  did  not  select,  every  time  that  he 
withdrew  himself  from  Jerusalem  and  went  out  there, 
just  such  a  place  as  happened  to  suit  him  ;  but  that  he 
had  chosen  some  nook,  that  there  was  some  place  to 
which  he  had  become  wonted,  and  which  was  specially 
dear  to  him ;  for  he  knew  the  benefit  of  association. 

Under  these  olive-trees  there  was  a  temple  to  Christ 
compared  with  which  the  grand  and  glittering  Temple 
over  against  it  was  colder  than  the  stone  that  it  was, 
and  emptier  than  the  stone.  Here,  in  this  one  place 
to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  resort  with  his 
disciples,  he  had  poured  out  tears  and  prayers,  and 
held  communion  with  them,  and  meditated  his  own 
work,  and  had  communion  with  the  Father,  until  the 
place  itself  was  to  him  as  the  gate  of    heaven. 

And  now,  as  his  last  trial  was  coming,  and  the  dark- 
ness was  already  lowering  upon  the  horizon  of  the  new 
day,  he  came  back  to  this  place  of  experience.  He 
did  not  permit  himself  to  be  arrested  among  the  vul- 
gar in  the  street,  who  would  deride  the  scene.  Nor 
would  he  try  the  hearts  of  his  friends  in  Bethany  with 


234    CIllilST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION. 

terror  and  alarm  by  being  arrested  in  their  sacred 
dwelling.  He  came  back  to  his  own  haunt, — to  the 
place  whither  he  had  been  accustomed  to  resort.  And 
there  he  went  through  his  last  inward  trial,  and  passed 
also  through  the  scenes  of  his  trial  and  arrest.  He 
knew  the  coming  hour,  and  he  took  with  him  Peter, 
James,  and  John,  to  watch  with  him. 

Now  these  were  the  three  disciples  that  had  the 
deepest  affection,  and  the  most  power  of  expressing 
sympathy.  For,  although  Peter  was  impetuous,  he  was 
just  as  impetuous  in  affection  as  in  conduct.  James 
and  John,  brothers,  possessed  largely  the  same  na- 
ture,—  John  the  deeper;  but  in  early  life  James  is 
represented  to  have  been  the  more  meek  and  sweet- 
minded.  And  these  three,  best  adapted  to  express 
sympathy,  Christ  selected  to  be  the  witnesses  of  his 
last  experience. 

But  why  should  they  watch  with  him?  —  for  he  said, 
"  Tarry  here  and  watch  while  I  go  yonder  and  pray." 
To  watch  was  to  keep  awake,  simply.  What  good 
could  they  do  ?  They  could  not  avert  that  inward 
trial,  the  shadow  of  which  was  already  coming  upon 
him.  For,  as  astronomers  know,  when  none  others 
think  of  it,  that  travelling  through  the  heavens  the 
vast  shadow  is  progressing  toward  the  sun  which  ere 
long  shall  clothe  it  and  hide  it,  so  Christ  knew  that 
the  jj-reat  darkness  which  was  to  overwhelm  him  was 
approaching.  And  he  went  to  this  ])lace  on  purpose, 
and  carried  thither  the  most  sympathetic  of  his  disci- 
ples, and  set  them  down  while  he  went  on  beyond,  and 
said  to  them,  "  Now  watch,  for  I  go  yonder  to  pray." 
Yet  what  could  they  do  ?  They  did  not  even  know 
what  "w\is  coming.     And  if  they  had  been  ever  so  vigi- 


CJIli/sT'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRCVI l-'I XlUN.    235 

lant  they  could  not  have  anticipated  it ;  or,  if  they  had, 
they  could  not  have  averted  the  peril  which  was  com- 
ing upon  him.  They  could  not  even  enter  into  his 
sorrow  when  it  did  come.  Had  they  been  by  his 
side,  his  groans  would  have  seemed  to  them  without 
interpretative  meaning.  Neither,  had  they  known, 
could  they  have  consoled  him.  His  trouble  was  be- 
yond their  depth.  What  could  they  do  ?  What  can 
a  little  child  do  that  looks  up  into  the  face  of  the 
mother,  and  sees  her  tears  dropping  one  by  one,  and 
knows  not  what  ails  her,  and  still  less  knows  how  to 
comfort  her,  and  can  only  once  in  a  while  climb  up 
into  her  lap  and  say,  "  Don't  cry,  mother."  Were  the 
disciples  any  stronger  than  that?  And  could  they 
comfort  Christ  any  more  than  in  that  blind  way  in 
which  children's  sympathy  comforts  parents,  —  or 
sometimes  heightens  their  sorrow  ?  Since  to  watch 
with  Christ  could  not  have  been  to  give  him  strength, 
nor  to  interpret  anything  to  him,  nor  to  enter  freely 
and  fully  into  his  feelings,  it  could  only  be  this,  that 
the  heart  of  Jesus  in  his  great  trial  would  be  comforted 
if  those  whom  he  loved  and  who  loved  him  were  pres- 
ent with  him,  and  were  in  sympathy  with  him. 

This  example  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  a  mere 
inflection  of  that  which  is  infinite  in  the  heavens.  He, 
when  he  went  into  the  sad  scene  in  Gethsemane  re- 
turned to  the  place  endeared  to  him  by  a  thousand 
tender  associations.  He,  when  he  went  to  suffer, 
selected  the  three  disciples  which  had  the  most  adap- 
tation to  sympathy  and  affection.  And  when  they 
went  with  him,  though  they  could  not  see  what  ailed 
him  nor  give  him  strength,  nor  in  any  way  help  him, 
except  by  being  there,  and  being  in  sympathy  with 


236    CIIRLST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL.  AND  CRUCIFIXION. 

him  that  was  enough.  He  wanted  that ;  and  so  he 
took  the  three  loving  disciples  out  of  the  band  and  set 
them  near  to  him,  and  said,  "  Be  with  me  while  I  suffer 
(for  that  is  the  interpretation  that  we  may  freely  give 
to  it) ;  stand  by  me  ;  feel  for  me  ;  let  me  see  you ; 
let  me  know  that  you  are  here;  watch  with  me  while 
1  go  yonder  to  sorrow  and  to  pray." 

What  these  sufferings  were,  it  is  hardly  necessary 
now  that  we  should  say.  One  thing  is  very  manifest 
all  the  way  through  the  last  scenes  of  our  Saviour's  life, 
and  even  when  he  was  on  the  cross,  —  namely,  that  the 
central  element  of  suffcrinii:  consisted  in  a  feeling;  ot 
loneliness,  — not  simply  of  loneliness,  but  of  exile  ;  and 
not  of  exile  alone,  but  of  banishment ;  and  not  of  ban- 
ishment alone,  but  of  absolute  desertion.  It  seems  as 
though  there  arose  in  the  mind  of  Christ  this  impres- 
sion,—  that  he  was  cast  forth  from  the  universe.  With 
all  that  vast  nature,  with  all  those  depths  unfathomable 
of  affection,  he  felt  himself  to  be  a  wreck  on  the  shore 
of  time.  And  his  utterance  on  the  cross  seems  typi- 
cal of  the  whole  experience  which  preceded  it,  —  "My 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  He  was  alone  ns 
one  that  would  never  return  again.  And  to  such  a 
heart  as  that,  a  heart  that  loved  and  must  be  loved, 
the  sense  of  being  utterly  and  forever  an  outcast,  even 
if  it  was  a  divine  illusion,  —  a  bandage,  as  it  were,  put 
over  his  eyes  for  the  purpose  of  trial  and  afllliction,  — 
while  it  lasted  was  a  suffering  as  great  as  the  human 
heart  probably  can  bear,  or  as  we  can  conceive  of. 
And  this  seems  to  have  been  the  feeling  which  under- 
lay the  suffering  of  Christ ;  that  he  was  cut  off  from 
men,  and  cut  off  from  angels,  and  cut  off,  finally,  from 
God. 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.    237 

But  in  that  hour,  when  his  lonehness  was  upon  him, 
as  he  drew  near  to  the  great  bank  of  storm  and  dark- 
ness that  lay  before  ;  as  he  began  to  wrestle  with  this 
deep  inward  distress,  —  in  that  hour  he  came  back  to 
his  disciples,  whom  he  would  fain  have  had  stand  at 
the  portal  of  his  suffering  with  him,  and  found  them 
asleep.  And  it  was  not  chiding,  though  it  was  disap- 
pointment, it  was  the  voice  of  love  when  he  spoke 
and  said,  "  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ?  " 

Then,  however,  thinking,  in  a  moment  he  said,  "  The 
spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak."  He  had 
compassion  on  them,  and  made  their  excuses  for  them. 
"  He  went  away  again  the  second  time,  and  praj^ed, 
saying,  0  my  Father,  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away 
from  me  except  I  drink  it,  thy  will  be  done.  And  he 
came  and  found  them  asleep  again ;  for  their  eyes 
wera  heavy.  And  he  left  them  and  went  away  again 
the  third  time,  saying  the  same  words." 

And  so,  after  all,  though  he  longed  for  their  conso- 
lation, he  had  none  of  it.  We  are  not  to  blame  them, 
because  the  scenes  which  they  had  been  going  through 
were  such  as  had  utterly  exhausted  them ;  and  it 
was  not  in  their  nature  to  bear  up  under  those  circum- 
stances, and  keep  awake ;  so  the  Master  recognized 
their  weakness,  and  with  sweet  excuse  he  allayed  those 
feelings  of  regret  which  his  words  excited  in  their 
bosoms. 

There  was  no  longer  need  that  they  should  vainly 
strive  to  keep  open  their  heavy,  sleep-burdened  eyes ; 
the  hour  had  come  whose  terrors  and  excitement  would 
effectually  banish  sleep.  Alas  !  they  would  be  only  too 
wide-awake. 

Judas,  like  all  the  other  disciples,  was  well  acquainted 


238    C7yA7^T^   BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION. 

with  this  retreat  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  choosing 
this  place  which  of  all  others  should  have  been  sacred 
from  its  many  sweet  associations,  and  hours  of  close 
communion  between  the  Master  and  his  chosen  band, 
—  choosing  his  time  {Uid  place  with  cowardly  and 
sacrilegious  caution,  because  it  would  be  free  from  the 
people,  —  brings  up  the  band  of  officers,  and  with  a 
kiss  of  hypocrisy  consummates  his  treachery.  The 
preconcerted  arrangement  by  which  he  was  to  show 
the  emissaries  of  the  Sanhedrim  where  the  Master  was 
accustomed  to  resort  at  night,  and  the  betrayal  there 
were  successfully  carried  out. 

The  armed  officers  made  their  arrest,  and  brought 
the  captive  in  the  night  to  the  high-priest ;  where 
occurred  Peter's  lamentable  exhibition  of  weakness, 
followino;  so  close  after  his  boastimj;:  declaration  of  fear- 
less  fidelity.  The  Council  hurried  through  an  informal 
and  most  iniquitous  trial,  seeking  to  suborn  the  wit- 
nesses ;  and  at  last,  skimming  over  their  miserable 
testimony,  they  condemned  him  for  blasphemy.  And 
if  Israel  had  been  an  independent  kingdom,  this  would 
have  been  the  end  of  his  trial ;  he  would  have  been 
put  to  death  under  a  Jewish  law,  and  probably  would 
have  been  stoned  to  death.  As,  however,  the  Roman 
yoke  lay  heavily  upon  the  Jews,  they  could  not  put 
any  man  to  death.  It  was  necessary  that  there  should 
be  another  condemnation,  or  rather  a  permission  of 
execution.  And  so,  in  the  morning,  they  gathered 
themselves  together,  and  came  to  Pilate. 

"  Then  led  they  Jesus  from  Caiaphas  unto  the  hall 
of  judgment:  and  it  was  early;  and  they  themselves 
went  not  into  the  judgment  hall." 

Why  ?     Here  were  these  men  bent  on  judicial  mur- 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFLXIOS.   239 

der.  They  had  arrested  an  innocent  man.  They  had 
perverted  all  their  own  forms  of  justice  with  malignant 
fanaticism.  They  had  condemned  him  to  death,  and 
Avere  on  the  road  to  get  permission  to  take  his  blood. 
They  came  to  the  gate  of  the  judgment  hall,  and  would 
not  enter  in.     Why  ?     "^^  Lest  iliey  sJioidd  he  defiled l'^ 

Here  was  a  natural  scene.  The  violation  of  human- 
ity, the  violation  of  justice,  the  violation  of  all  manly 
and  all  civil  instincts,  —  these  real  transgressions,  that 
went  right  home,  they  could  commit  without  the  least 
trouble ;  but  to  go  into  a  heathen's  hall  would  defile 
them  !  This  conventional  usage,  man-made,  they  were 
very  conscientious  about ! 

So  these  men  sat  at  the  threshold  of  the  judgment 
hall,  and  would  not  go  in.  Therefore  Pilate  came  out 
to  them.  Here  the  Jews  charged  Jesus  with  disturb- 
ing the  public  peace.     That  was  the  first  accusation. 

"  Pilate  went  out  unto  them,  and  said,  What  accusa- 
tion bring  ye  against  this  man  ?  They  answered  and 
said  unto  him,  If  he  were  not  a  malefactor,  we  w^ould 
not  have  delivered  him  up  unto  thee." 

Pilate  did  not  want  to  be  troubled ;  and  supposing, 
probably,  at  the  first,  that  it  w^as  simply  a  matter  of 
permission  to  exercise  some  little  chastisement,  he  said 
—  to  evade  and  avoid  it  by  turning  him  back  on- their 
own  hands  —  "  Take  ye  him,  and  judge  him  according 
to  your  law."  The  Jews  then  disclosed  the  full  extent 
of  their  purpose  ;  for  they  replied,  "  It  is  not  lawful 
for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death." 

Then  followed  an  interview  between  Pilate  and  the 
Saviour.  When  Pilate  found  that  the  Jews  made  the 
matter  so  serious,  and  were  disposed  to  carry  it  so  far, 
he  took  the  Saviour  and  examined  him. 


240    CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION. 

"  Then  Pilate  entered  into  the  judgment  hall  again, 
and  called  Jesus"  —  being  now  separated  and  apart 
from  his  accusers  —  "-and  said  unto  him,  Art  thou  the 
king  of  the  Jews  ?  Jesus  answered  him,  Sayest  thou 
this  thing  of  thyself,  or  did  others  tell  it  thee  of  me  ? 
Pilate  answered  him.  Am  I  a  Jew  ?  Thine  own  nation 
and  the  chief  priests  have  delivered  thee  unto  me  : 
what  hast  thou  done  ?  Jesus  answered.  My  kingdom 
is  not  of  this  world  :  if  my  kingdom  were  of  this  world, 
then  would  my  servants  fight,  that  1  should  not  be 
delivered  to  the  Jews ;  t)ut  now  is  my  kingdom  not  far 
from  hence." 

Pilate  seemed  to  be  entirely  satisfied  with  this  dec- 
laration of  Jesus,  that  the  kino;dom  of  which  he 
considered  himself  king  was  not  a  real  civil  estate,  — 
that  it  was  nothing  that  he  need  take  cognizance  of, 
but  some  dream,  some  poetic  notion. 

"Pilate  therefore  said  unto  him.  Art  thou  a  king, 
then  ?  Jesus  answered.  Thou  sayest  that  I  am  a  king. 
To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into 
the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  ti-utli. 
Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my  voice. 
Pilate  said  unto  him.  What  is  truth  ?  And  when  he 
had  said  this,  he  went  out  again  unto  the  Jews,  and 
saith.unto  them,  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all." 

The  whole  accusation  fell  to  the  ground.  Pilate's 
interview  with  the  Saviour  probably  convinced  him 
of  two  things :  frd,  that  he  was  entirely  innocent  of 
any  crime  or  wrong  of  which  the  Roman  jurisdiction 
could  take  any  cognizance ;  and  secondlf/,  that  Jesus 
was  one  of  those  impracticable  dreamers,  one  of  those 
philosophers  who  talked  about  things  that  might 
perhaps    come    to   pass   when    poets  should   rule    the 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND    CRUCIFIXION.    241 

world,  but  that  had  nothing  to  do  with  practical  men 
or  practical  business.  This,  we  may  suppose,  was 
about  the  judgment  that  he  formed;  at  any  rate,  it 
was  mixed  with  great  respect.  The  whole  narrative 
shows  that  the  bearino^  of  our  Saviour,  the  indescrib- 
able  air  which  he  wore,  had  produced  a  very  strong 
impression  upon  the   mind  of  Pihite. 

Next,  having  attempted  to  put  back  the  Saviour 
upon  the  hands  of  the  Jews  and  failed,  having  ex- 
amined him  privately  and  found  no  cause  for  his 
condemnation,  he  fell  upon  a  third  device.  The  Jews, 
when  he  came  out  and  said  this  to  them,  declared, 
according  to  the  record  of  the  event  as  set  forth  in 
Luke,  that  this  man  had  stirred  up  the  people  from 
Galilee  to  Jerusalem.  That  word  Galilee  caught  his 
ear.  He  was  a  politic  man  ;  he  was  a  man  that  always 
looked  out  for  his  own  chances ;  and  the  moment  he 
heard  that  word  Galilee,  he  thought  to  himself,  '^  Then 
Herod  is  the  ruler  there,  and  I  will  shift  this  whole 
trouble  off  my  hands,  and  will  put  it  on  to  Herod." 

Now,  Pilate  and  Herod  had  had  a  feud.  Theirs 
were  concurrent  jurisdictions,  and  they  fell  into  quar- 
rels as  to  who  should  rule,  probably.  At  any  rate, 
whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  they  had  a  feud ; 
and  here  was  an  opportunity  for  Pilate  both  to  get  rid 
of  a  trouble  and  to  pay  a  compliment  to  Herod,  by 
passing  the  matter  over  to  him.  He  therefore  sent 
Jesus  to  Herod.  Herod,  we  are  told,  received  the  mes- 
sage and  the  mission  with  great  pleasure.  He  was 
conciliated  bv  it.  He  had  for  a  Ion 2;  time  desired  to 
see  this  man,  —  not  from  any  moral  motive  ;  not  as 
Nicodemus  desired  to  see  him ;  not  from  any  special 
want,  such  as  brought   the   Syrophcenician  woman   to 

voi,.  II. —  16 


242    CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL.  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION. 

our  Saviour ;  but  lie  had  a  great  curiosity  to  see  him, 
as  a  wonder-worker.  He  had  heard  that  the  dead  were 
raised,  that  the  deaf  and  blind  were  cured,  and  that 
sick  men,  almost  in  multitudes,  were  restored  at  Christ's 
coming ;  and  he  hoped  that  he  would  perform  some  of 
these  striking  works  in  his  presence.  Therefore  he 
was  very  glad.  But  our  Saviour  maintained  simplicity 
and  silence.  Herod  marvelled,  but  he  could  extract 
nothing  from  him.  He  woidd  not  answer  him  at  all, 
nor  perform  any  work  or  miracle.  Then  Herod's  curi- 
osity ceased.  His  pride  was  touched.  Catching  the 
idea  that  he  was  accused  of  being  king  of  the  Jews,  he 
put  royal  purple  on  him.  Thus  he  touched  the  sense 
of  humor  in  the  rude  and  barbarous  soldiers.  A  poor 
man,  without  any  army,  without  any  officers,  without 
any  treasure,  without  any  attendants  of  any  kind,  he 
was  pulled  and  hauled  through  the  streets,  bearing  the 
royal  purple  robes,  and  wearing  for  a  crown  something 
plucked  from  the  hedge,  whence  were  seen  issuing,  in- 
stead of  rays  of  gold,  thorns  or  spikes. 

And  so  they  took  him  back,  jeering  and  laughing, 
and  making,  as  it  was  supposed,  a  royal  jest.  And  it 
is  said  that  Pilate  and  Herod  were  made  friends  on  that 
same  day. 

But  back  came  this  plague  to  Pilate.  The  Jews  now 
charo-ed  the  Saviour  with  sedition.  The  accusation  is 
thus  recorded  in  Luke's  Gospel :  — 

"  And  they  began  to  accuse  him,  saying,  We  found 
this  fellow  perverting  the  nation,  and  forbidding  to 
give  tribute  to  Caesar,  saying  that  he  himself  is  Christ 
and  King." 

This  "  perverting  the  nation"  was  equivalent  to  stir- 
ring up  opposition  to  the  government.     It  was  conspir- 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.   243 

acy.  And  the  particular  point  of  refusing  to  pay  rev- 
enue to  Rome  wass  a  point  on  which  Rome  was  very 
sensitive.  The  declaration  that  he  was  Caesar's  rival, 
and  that  he  sought  to  make  himself  a  king  —  a  thing 
which  was  afterwards  charged  upon  him  in  a  more  co- 
»>-ent  form  —  made  an  impression  on  Pilate's  mind.  Up 
to  this  point,  he  meant,  evidently,  in  some  way  or  other 
to  buy  off  the  Saviour.  One  might  naturally  say, 
"  Why  did  he  tamper  ?  He  knew  him  to  be  innocent ; 
he  knew  him  to  be  a  just  man;  he  had  the  full  power 
in  his  hand :  why  did  he  not  settle  the  matter  ?  "  That 
is  the  very  point  on  which  Pilate's  character  turned,  as 
we  shall  see  in  a  moment.  He  then  proposed,  as  it 
were,  to  buy  the  Jews  off  by  giving  them  a  little  of 
what  they  asked.  He  said,  "  I  find  no  evil  in  this  man. 
Let  me  chastise  him.  Take  so  much  punishment  out 
of  him.  You  are  angry,  and  want  your  way  ;  but  if 
you  will  let  nie  scourge  him,  and  dismiss  him,  that  will 
suffice."  If  Christ  was  guilty,  he  should  have  been 
condemned.  If  he  was  innocent,  what  did  Pilate  want 
to  scourge  him  for  ?  What  kind  of  a  compromise  was 
this  of  justice  ?  But  the  Jews  reiused  any  compro- 
mise.    They  asked  for  blood  ! 

For  political  reasons,  having  made  up  his  mind  to 
permit  this  outrageous  injustice  rather  than  anger  the 
Jews,  yet  plainly  seeing  its  odiousness,  he  desired  to 
acquit  himself  from  blame  in  the  matter  and  if  possible 
effect  a  compromise;  so  he  besought  them  to  allow  him 
to  exchange  Barabbas  for  Christ;  but  that  was  disdain- 
fully rejected. 

Pilate  then  more  particularly  examined  the  Saviour 
again ;  and  after  a  second  interview  with  him,  being  im- 
pressed still  further  by  his  dignity,  and  by  the  grandeur 


244    CIIRIST'^S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION. 

of  his  character  and  bearing,  he  sought  yet  more  ear- 
nestly to  release  him.  And  now  it  was  that  the  Jews 
threatened  Pilate. 

"From  thenceforth  Pilate  sought  to  release  him;  but 
the  Jews  cried  out/'  —  they  knew  him;  they  knew 
just  where  to  put  the  lance,  —  ''It"  thou  let  this  man 
o-o,  thou  art  not  CVvsar's  friend.  Whosoever  maketh 
himself  a  king,  speaketh  against  Caesar."  That  was  the 
fatal  stab.  He  could  not  withstand  that.  He  was  sen- 
sitive in  regard  to  his  reputation  at  Eom.e,  where  he 
thought  he  might  be  implicated  by  the  exposition  of 
the  Jewish  people.  He  was  not  altogether  without 
reason  of  accusation.  Already  damaging  complaints 
had  gone  up  to  Ciesar ;  and  the  threat  that  they  would 
accuse  him  of  taking  the  part  of  a  man  that  claimed 
to  be  a  rival  of  Caesar,  and  that  taught  the  people  to 
refuse  tribute,  —  this  awakened  his  fear.  Then,  still 
being  willing  to  release  Jesus,  he  asked  them,  "  What 
will  ye,  then,  that  I  shall  do  with  Jesus,  which  is  called 
Christ  the  King  of  the  Jews?" 

The  question  indicates  expostulation  full  as  much  as 
perplexity.  An  hqnest  man  sitting  in  Pilate's  place 
would  have  found  no  trouble,  would  certainly  have 
had  no  doubt  as  to  his  duty;  for  Jesus  had  lived  and 
tauo-ht  durino;  Pilate's  administration,  and  there  is  evi- 
dence  also  in  the  text  of  Scripture  that  Pilate  had  a 
general  knowledge  of  the  purity  of  his  doctrine  and  the 
integrity  of  his  life.  All  the  allegations  made  against 
him  and  the  evidences  which  had  been  presented  in 
confirmation  of  them  were  so  manifestly  insufficient  for 
condemnation,  nay,  even  for  blame-worthiness,  that  Pi-- 
late's  mind  was  not  affected  in  the  slightest  degree  with 
trouble   from  conflicting  evidence,  or  the  intricacy  of 


'     CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL.  .L\7>  CRUCIFIXION.   245 

principles  involved.  It  was  a  case  perfectly  clear  in 
itself.  Pilate  sat  there  as  a  supreme  arbiter,  as  a  ruler 
and  judge.  It  was  his  business  to  consider  Jesus's  con- 
duct in  relation  to  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  in  that  re- 
lation there  was  not  a  shadow  of  evidence  against  him. 
He  stood  morally  acquitted  of  every  charge  upon 
which  he  was  arraigned.  Nay,  Pilate  was  perfectly 
well  acquainted  with  the  accusers  of  Christ.  He  knew 
them  to  be  selfish,  ambitious,  vindictive  men ;  and  he 
was  entirely  convinced  in  this  particular  case  that 
Christ  was  persecuted  by  them  from  reasons  of  malice  ; 
for  it  is  declared  "  that  he  knew  that  for  envy  they 
had  delivered  him." 

This,  then,  was  a  case  which  to  an  honest  and  just 
man  would  have  had  no  difficulties  whatever.  There 
w\as  but  one  plain  duty  to  be  performed,  and  that  was 
to  acquit  Christ,  and  to  discharge  him.  But  to  a  politic 
man,  who  regards  men's  moods  only  as  they  affect  his 
own  interests,  and  their  moral  qualities  only  as  so  many 
collateral  elements  of  his  own  welfare,  to  such  a  one 
there  may  be  some  trouble  in  such  a  case,  for  the  peo- 
ple had  been  stirred  up  by  their  rulers,  and  were 
almost  riotous;  and  the  chief  priests  and  influential 
men  were  hot  with  rage.  Pilate  was  satisfied  that 
Christ  was  innocent,  and  ought  to  be  released.  But 
how  could  he  acquit  him,  and  yet  stand  well  with  the 
ruling  classes  ?  That  was  the  perplexity.  He  wanted 
to  do  two  opposite  things ;  he  wished  to  reconcile  two 
irreconcilable  courses.  He  therefore  reasons  witli  them 
persuasively,  trying  various  expedients  to  get  rid  of 
pronouncing  condemnation  upon  Christ,  —  the  thing 
they  wanted  him  to  do,  and  that  he  shrunk  from  doing. 

The  most  extraordinary  part,  however,  of  this  scene, 


246   CHRIST'S  BETIIAYAL,  TRIAL,  AXD   CRUCIFIXION.    ' 

and  the  one  which  shows  at  once  the  greatest  want  of 
moral  sensibihty  in  Pilate,  and  the  most  profound 
moral  ignorance,  is  his  attempt  to  shift  the  responsi- 
bility of  this  crhne  from  himself  to  the  Jews. 

"  When  Pilate  saw  that  he  could  prevail  nothing,  but 
that  rather  a  tumult  was  made,  he  took  water,  and 
washed  his  hands  before  the  multitude,  saying,^!  am 
innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  person  :  see  ye  to  it.'  " 

This  man  was  appointed  to  administer  justice,  and  in 
the  clearest  possible  case  he  refused  to  do  it.  He  was 
appointed  to  stand  between  men  and  the  law,  and  to 
secure  punishment  for  disobedience  and  safety  for  obe- 
dience, and  he  utterly  refused  to  perform  this  high 
diuiy.  He  denied  the  instinct  of  common  humanity. 
He  broke  the  law  he  was  to  administer.  He  violated 
his  own  knowledge  and  sense  of  justice.  He  deliber- 
ately gave  an  innocent  man  over  into  the  hands  of  his 
raging  enemies  to  be  put  to  the  most  cruel  death 
known  to  that  age  ingenious  in  cruelty.  And  then, 
having  been  faithless  to  every  duty,  he  coolly  puts  off 
all  his  own  responsibility  upon  the  Jews,  for  they  were 
conspirators  with  him.  There  w^ere  two  parties  to  this 
crime,  —  the  Jew^s,  who  demanded  Christ's  crucifixion, 
furious  with  rage,  and  Pilate  who  gave  him  over  to 
them,  cool,  calculating,  politic,  selfish.  However  im- 
pressive, then,  it  may  have  been  to  the  spectators,  and 
however  much  it  may  have  eased  him  to  wash  his 
hands,  it  could  not  touch  his  guilt,  or  wash  away  the 
blackness  of  it  from  his  memory.  In  this  awful  trag- 
edy he  was  second  to  none  in  guilt. 

Contrasting  such  a  man  as  Judas  with  Pilate,  the 
first  impulse  is  to  say  that  Juflas  was  by  far  the  more 
wicked ;  but  if  one  stop   to  think,  one   will  perceive 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.   247 

that  Judas  acted  a  low-lived,  vulgar  part.  Because  lie 
bribed  himself  by  avarice,  and  because  he  was  treach- 
erous to  his  Master,  his  crime  seemed  more  culpable 
than  Pilate's;  but  Judas  had  an  ignoble  nature.  It  is 
not  probable  that  he  strove  within  himself  at  all  to  re- 
sist his  transgression.  He  acted  from  very  low  motives 
because  he  was  himself  very  low.  He  was  abundantly 
and  vulgarly  criminal.  But  here  was  a  man  of  a  much 
higher  organization,  of  a  far  larger  education,  of  clearer 
moral  perceptions.  While  Judas  allowed  himself  to  be 
gnawed  by  avarice,  Pilate  saw  that  this  man  was  just 
and  uncondemnable  on  the  principles  of  equity.  Pilate 
sinned  from  a  higher  point,  and  with  more  deliberation, 
than  Judas,  and  he  had  better  means  of  getting  at  the 
right  and  going  right.  He  was  not  brutal  in  the  same 
sense  that  the  priests  were,  and  that  the  rabble  were  who 
went  with  them.  We  are  to  remember  that  these  men 
were  utterly  given  up  to  fanaticism,  and  were  heated 
to  fury  thereby.  And  though  this  fact  does  not  excul- 
pate them,  and  make  them  less  than  guilty,  yet  they 
were  brutal,  and  blinded.  But  Pilate  was  not  blinded 
nor  infuriated.  His  zeal  was  not  goaded  on  by  his 
prejudices.  He  was  calm ;  he  was  clear-headed ;  he 
was  calculatino; ;  he  did  the  whole  thins;  in  cold  blood. 
Judas,  it  is  believed  by  many,  betrayed  his  Master  ex- 
pecting that  Jesus,  would  elude  his  enemies  and  escape, 
while  he  should  make  a  profit  by  it.  The  priests  were 
rabid  with  hatred.  Pilate  was  the  only  calm  man 
among  them.  He  was  cool.  He  saw  things  just  as 
they  were.  He  said  deliberately  in  himself,  "Although 
this  man  is  just  and  right,  and  all  these  men  are  his 
enemies,  and  are  infamous,  yet  it  will  not  do  for  me  to 
lose  favor  at  Rome  ;"  and  so  he  ^old  Christ  rather  than 


248  CHRIST'S  betiiaym.,  trial,  and  crucifixion. 

lose  his  own  political  prestige.  It  was  an  act  of  delib- 
eration, calm  and  cold ;  and  even  if  it  was  keen  and 
sharp,  it  was  more  detestable  than  the  brutality  of 
Judas  or  the  wickedness  of  the  priests.  He  was  guilty 
therefore,  of  the  whole  transaction.  He  was  the  guilt- 
iest of  all  that  acted  in  it. 

To  please  the  people  at  last,  though  he  publicly  de- 
clared that  he  found  no  fixult  with  him,  Pilate  gave 
Jesus  to   the  soldiers,  after  having  first  scourged  him. 

The  Roman  ferocity  that  looked  upon  suffering  as  a 
luxury,  that  made  its  joy  in  beholding  gladiators  and 
wild  beasts  in  hideous  conflict,  here  showed  itself  in 
characteristic  exhibition.  The  whole  band  was  called 
together,  that  not  one  of  them  might  lose  the  sport. 
Then  the  Saviour  was  arrayed  in  purple,  a  wreath  of 
briers,  or  small  thorns,  was  "  platted,"  and  with  this  he 
was  crowned.  Then  they  jeered  him,  and  put  a  reed 
or  cane  in  his  hand  for  a  sceptre;  and  they  began,  with 
laughter  ill-suppressed,  to  bow,  and  to  worship  this 
man.  With  a  double-edged  derision  they  called  him 
*'  King,"  for  it  was  a  mockery  of  him,  surely,  and  to 
call  such  a  one  "  King  of  the  Jews  "  was  also  an  ex- 
quisite satire  on  the  nation.     It  cut  both  ways. 

He  had  already  been  spit  upon  and  severely  smitten 
before  the  Sanhedrim.  He  spake  nothing.  His  silence 
was  so  remarkable  that  it  attracted  attention  ;  Pilate, 
even,  noticed  it.  There  was  great  dignity  in  it. 
There  was  a  moral  meaning  in  it  that  men  felt,  even 
if  they  could  not  understand  it.  It  was  not  the  silence 
of  nothing,  but  of  something  too  mighty  for  words. 
All  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life ;  but 
Christ  would  not  give  even  a  word  for  his.  He  now 
stands  among  the  ribald  soldiery.     They  renew  the  in- 


CHRIST'S  BETE  AVAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.    249 

dignities  of  the  Jews.  They  empurple  him.  They 
nod,  and  beck,  and  Liugh,  as  the  most  litlie  and  moun 
tebank  soldier  assumes  with  greatest  success  the  airs 
of  a  courtier,  and  with  mock  reverence  and  adroit 
humility  acknowledges  the  kingship  of.  the  silent, 
thorn-crowned  sufferer. 

Consider  this  scene  in  its  external  relations.  He  was 
a  Jew  before  Romans,  who  despised  Jews.  He  was 
a  Jew  rejected  of  his  own  rulers  and  people,  and  there- 
fore lower  than  a  Jew.  Abandoned  by  his  disciples, 
he  was  alone.  All  the  laws  of  his  country  had  profited 
him  nothing.  Those  whom  he  had  saved  were  not 
there.  Those  whom  he  had  healed  and  fed  and 
taught  were  far  away.  He  was  doomed  and  deserted. 
Before  him  was  the  cross  looming  up.  Solitary  he 
stood,  and  silent  in  utter  helplessness.  Can  anything 
be  more  hopeless  ?  Was  ever  such  a  life  so  wasted  ? 
And  thus  it  appeared  to  the  Jewish  priests,  and  thus  to 
the  soldiers,  and  thus  to  his  own  disciples.  They  saw 
nothing  but  what  their  eyes  could  discover,  and  that 
seemed  the  extremity  of  woe,  the  very  depth  of 
disaster  and  degradation. 

But  pierce  this  external  appearance,  and  what  is  it  ? 
A  body  weakened,  disgraced,  suffering,  and  just  com- 
ing to  more  awful  agony,  was  this  all  ?  Within  that 
unspeaking  form  was  the  home  of  a  great  and  suft'er- 
ino;  love.  A  nature  which  time  shall  never  be  able 
fully  to  interpret  w'as  now  at  its  point  of  greatest 
grandeur,  —  the  full  of  love.  It  was  not  that  love 
which  gives  and  takes,  but  that  love  which  is  the  high- 
est ecstasy  of  mortal  life,  that  love  which  suffers  for 
another.  To  say  that  suffering  for  another's  good  is 
the    highest    element  of  Deity  would    be   to  venture 


250    CIIIUST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION. 

beyond  knowledge  ;  but  we  may  say  that  it  is  the 
highest  element  yet  unfolded  to  us,  and  that  all  other 
conceptions  of  character  are  far  behind  this. 

He  was  the  greatest  of  all  his  contemporaries,  king 
of  the  world,  of  time,  and  of  eternity,  just  because  he 
was  the  crowned  sufferer.  Other  kings  theTe  were, 
but  he  was  the  greatest.  Othei-  ciowns  flashed  splen- 
dor from  stones  beyond  price,  but  no  stone  ever  yet 
was  to  be  valued  with  these  spines  of  thorns  for 
glorious  beauty.  What  is  a  stone,  a  diamond,  nn 
emerald,  an  opal,  but  mere  cold  physical  beauty  ? 
But  every  thorn  in  that  crown  is  a  symbol  of  Divine 
love.  Every  thorn  stood  in  a  drop  of  blood,  as  every 
sorrow  stood  deep  in  the  heart  of  the  Saviour ;  and 
the  great  anguish,  the  shame,  the  indignity,  the  aban- 
donment, the  injustice,  and  that  other  unknown 
anguish  which  a  God  may  feel,  but  a  man  may  not 
understand,  —  all  these  were  accepted  in  gentleness, 
in  quietness,  without  repelling,  without  protest, 
without  exclamation,  without  surprise,  without  anger, 
without  even  reiJrret.  He  w^as  to  teach  the  world  a 
new  life.  He  was  to  teach  the  heart  a  new  ideal  of 
character.  He  was  to  teach  a  new  power  in  the 
administration  of  justice.  A  divine  lesson  was  needed, 
that  love  is  the  essence  of  divinity ;  that  love,  suffer- 
ing for  another,  is  the  highest  form  of  love  ;  that  that 
love,  when  administered,  carries  with  it  everything  that 
there  is  of  love,  and  purity,  and  justice ;  and  not  only 
that  love  is  the  fulfdling  of  the  law,  but  that  God 
himself  is  love. 

This  was  the  hour,  then,  of  Christ's  grandeur.  He 
was  king  then,  and  was  indeed  crowned.  No  throne 
was  like  the  steps  on  which  he  stood.     No   imperial 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.    251 

person  was  so  august  as  this  derided  and  martyred 
Jew.  If  lie  had,  by  a  resort  to  violence,  relieved 
himself  he  would  have  been  discrowned.  To  sutfer 
in  sweet  willingness,  to  have  the  sulitering  roll  to 
unknown  depths  and  not  to  murmur,  this  was  to 
be  a  king  far  beyond  the  ordinaiy  conception  of 
kingship. 

Oh,  could  some  prophet's  prayer  have  touched  the 
eyes  of  those  that  stood  about  him,  that  for  a  moment 
they  might  have  seen  the  sight  behind  and  within  the 
flesh,  how  strange  would  have  been  their  gazing ! 
How  would  the  spiritual  beauty  and  power  have  risen 
up  before  them  !  Once,  when  they  would  have  ar- 
rested him,  he  said,  "  I  am  he  whom  ye  seek,"  and 
they  fell  as  if  struck  to  the  ground  ;  and  now,  had 
there  been  a  spiritual  unfolding  that  should  have  dis- 
closed his  real  character,  and,  as  it  was  declared,  "  I 
am  he,"  methinks  it  would  have  thrown  the  soldiers  to 
the  ground,  or  sent  them  flying  everywhither. 

Stand  by  him  now,  and  look  down  through  the  times 
to  come.  From  this  point  of  vicAv  interpret  the  pas- 
sage, "  Who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  en- 
dured the  cross,  despising  the  shame."  Ages  are  to 
roll  by  ;  nations  are  to  die,  and  nations  are  to  rise 
and  take  their  places  ;  laws  are  to  grow  old,  and  from 
new  germs  laws  are  to  unfold ;  old  civilizations  are  to 
crumble,  and  new  eras  are  to  dawn  with  higher  culture; 
but  to  the  end  of  time  it  will  be  seen  that  this  fis-ure 

o 

stands  high  above  every  other  in  the  history  of  man  ! 
"A  name  which  is  above  every  name"  was  given  to 
him,  not  for  the  sake  of  fame,  but  in  a  wholly  different 
sense, —  a  name  of  power;  a  name  of  moral  influence  ;  a 
name  that  shall  teach  men  how  to  live,  and  what  it  is 


252    CHRIST'S  BKTRAYAr.,  TRIM.,  AND  CIUTCIFIXION. 

to  be  men  in  CHrist  Jesus.  The  crown  of  thorns  is  the 
worlds  crown  of  redemption.  The  power  of  suffering 
love,  which  luis  already  wrought  such  changes  in  the 
world,  is  to  work  on  with  nobler  disclosures,  and  in 
wider  spheres  ;  it  is  to  teach  men  how  to  resist  evil ; 
how  to  overcome  sin ;  how  to  raise  the  wicked  and 
degraded  ;  how  to  reform  the  race  ;  how,  in  short,  to 
create  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  in  which  is  to 
dwell  riiihteousness. 

It  is  this  crowned  sorrow  in  Christ  which  proved  him 
to  be  king  of  redemption.  It  is  the  very  focus  of  the 
redemptive  element,  that  one  was  found  with  love 
enough  to  suffer  remedially  for  the  world. 

In  the  brief  glimpse  which  we  get  of  the  turbulent 
termination  of  Christ's  shameful  trial,  we  see  the 
Roman  magistrate,  conscious  of  his  cowardly  injustice, 
slinking  back  to  his  palace ;  the  priests  and  rulers  in 
furious  ecstasy  congratulating  each  other,  and  hurry- 
ing forward  the  events.  The  excited  populace,  the 
same  throng,  or  portions  of  it,  that  but  a  few  days 
previous  had  rent  the  air  with  their  joyous  shouts  of 
'' Hosanna !  Hosanna!  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  ;  "  now  fierce,  truculent,  rush 
roaring  along  the  crowded  street,  filling  the  air  with 
savage  cries  of  "  crucify  him  !  crucify  him  !  "  While 
sweet  and  peaceful  standing  out  against  this  lurid 
background,  is  Christ  himself,  "  And  he,"  John  says, 
"  bearing   his  cross  went   forth." 

Doubtless  his  step  was  so  hindered  that  it  was  slow, 
ill-timed  to  the  impetuous  eagerness  of  his  enemies ; 
they  were  in  hot  haste  to  expedite  the  movement. 
They  seize  upon  Simon  a  Cyrenian,  who  chanced  to 
be  present,  doubtless  because  he  was  a  stout  and  burly 


-£^ 


Street  scEAt,  jeklsalem. 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.    253 

fellow,  and  made  liim  porter,  that  Jesus,  relieved  of  his 
load,  might  move  with  greater  celerity.  They  were 
anxious  for  his  death,  and  finally  he  was  carried,  and 
in  ignominy  was  lifted  up  into  the  air,  helpless,  and 
nailed   to  the   cross  on   which  he  died. 

The  drama  of  Jesus's  departure  has  in  it  elements  of 
significance  that  belong  to  no  other  drama  on  earth. 
His  arrest,  his  shameful  trial,  his  pitiless  crucifixion, 
his  beautiful,  forgiving,  overflowing  love,  in  the  most 
excruciating  hour,  for  those  who  had  committed  the 
greatest  crime  against  the  universe,  —  the  conception 
itself  of  these  things  is  sublime,  and  the  realization 
of  it  transcends  any  other  dramatic  scene.  Nor  can 
any  poet,  though  he  be  Milton,  or  Dante,  or  any 
other,  rise  to  the  greatness  of  this  theme,  as  it  stands 
in  the  New  Testament.  In  its  simplicity  it  can  be 
heightened  by  no  addition,  and  illustrated  by  no  other 
light  or  beauty. 

The  whole  description  of  our  Lord's  crucifixion  is 
sublimely  abstinent  and  simple.  A  few  strong  lines 
are  drawn  upon  the  dark  and  stormy  background,  and 
the  main  features  stand  out  never  to  be  fort^otten. 
Beyond  that  there  is  no  attempt  at  effect,  nothing 
minute,  no  stroke  after  stroke  to  work  up  the  effect. 
He  is  laid  away  quietly;  and  just  enough  incidental 
record  is  given  to  enable  our  imagination  to  follow 
the  events,  and  not  alwnys  to  follow  them  consecu- 
tively. There  is  many  a  gap  to  be  filled  up.  There 
are  some  things  that  we  cannot  reconcile, — not  because 
they  were  irreconcilable,  but  simply  because  some  link 
was  left  untouched.  There  is  a  sublime  carelessness  in 
the  record. 

The  way  to  write  the  closing  scenes  of  the  life  of 


254    CURIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION. 

Christ  is  to  copy  the  account  of  the  four  Gospels.  Nor 
is  there  anything  more  tenuous,  more  dehcate,  more 
rare  in  its  heauty,  than  tlie  departure  of  Christ,  who- 
may  be  said  to  have  come  into  human  hfe,  creeping 
through  the  very  door  of  poverty,  and  making  many 
rich. 

Look,  also,  at  the  self-control,  the  love  and  the  di- 
vinity, with  which  he  breathed  a  prayer  of  sympathy 
and  fori^iveness  on  those  that  were  murderin(»:  him. 
Nor  is  there  wantiuo-  a  certain  relief  to  the  trasric 
nature  of  the  scene,  in  the  groups  that  surrounded 
the  cross.  On  the  one  side  was  the  group  of  women, 
whose  courao-e  in  that  hour  was  a  courao;e  of  love  and 
sj^mpathy,  which  rose  superior  to  the  zeal  and  courage 
of  manhood.  For  the  men  shrunk  awaj^,  and  held 
themselves  at  a  safe  distance,  —  with  one  exception, 
that  of  the  feminine  disciple,  John.  He  stood  faithful. 
Over  against  the  women  were  groups  of  the  Roman 
soldiers,  gambling  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  They  had 
done  their  work,  and  while  waitiniz:  thev  were  dividino; 
the  Saviour's  garments.  They  threw  dice  to  see  who 
should  have  the  whole  one  ;  and  the  others  they  sep- 
arated. And  it  is  said  that  they  sat  down  and  watched 
him.  Here  were  these  contrasting  groups,  —  the  women 
on  the  one  side,  and  the  hoary  gamblers  on  the  other, 
the  one  w\atching  with  tender  eyes  of  love,  and  the 
other  with  hard  eyes  of  cruelty. 

And  so,  while  the  central  figure  is  never  lost,  while 
we  never  for  one  moment  waver  in  our  interest  in  him, 
all  these  unconscious  and  unintended  touches  relieve 
the  stress  of  feelinii; ;  and  we  read  ay-ain,  and  agfain, 
and  again,  and  never  are  tired  of  reading,  this  match- 
less scene  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ. 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.    255 

The  finer  our  natures  become,  and  the  more  deh- 
cate  are  the  rules  of  criticism  which  we  bring  to 
bear  upon  this  history  of  the  last  hours  of  God  man- 
ifest in  the  flesh,  the  better  it  will  stand  the  test  of 
criticism,  and  the  more  surely  it  will  come  out  evidently 
inspired. 

Where  else,  in  any  drama,  is  there  an  attempt  to 
depict  a  God  coming  from  the  grave  as  a  human  sug- 
gestion ?  It  is  simply  audacious.  Yet,  if  one  looks 
at  this,  he  will  be  struck  with  the  skill  (not  purposed 
skill),  with  the  rare  art,  in  the  best  and  highest  use 
of  that  term,  that  is  manifested  in  the  conduct  of  this 
part  of  the  history.  It  is  not  a  slight  circumstance 
that  the  resurrection  of  Christ  is  not  painted  at  all ; 
that  there  is  no  attempt  made  to  paint  it.  The  Saviour 
is  presented  to  us  as  lying  calm  as  marble.  Nor  is 
there  a  description  of  the  first  stirrings  or  ever  he 
came  forth  at  the  angel  touch.  There  is  no  depict- 
ing of  these  things.  All  that  we  know  is  that  when 
the  morning  dawned,  and  they  went  into  the  sepulchre 
to  find  him,  he  was  not  there. 

And  it  is  a  beautiful  transition,  to  our  conception, 
that  angels  are  introduced  into  the  tomb.  The  man- 
agement of  spirits  has  always  been  the  test  of  genius  ; 
but  where  can  you  find  such  management  of  spirits  as 
here  ?  Where  can  you  find  angelic  appearances  so  fit  ? 
Where  can  you  find  demeanor  so  admirable  ?  Where 
can  you  find  words  so  noble  ?  For,  while  angels  are 
represented  as  singing  at  the  advent  of  the  Saviour, 
they  are  represented  as  sitting  silent  in  the  sepulchre. 
Two,  there  were  ;  and  we  may  imagine  one  the  angel 
of  Hope,  and  the  other  the  angel  of  Memory ;  as  if  the 
angel  at  the  feet  were  tracing  the  history  of  Christ  as 


256  ciJRrsT'S  betrayal,  trial,  and  crucifixion. 

"  a  man  of  .sorrow  and  acquainted  with  grief,"  while 
the  angel  at  the  head  was  looking  for  the  joy  that  was 
before  him,  and  into  which  he  was  about  to  enter  ? 
Where  can  you  find  so  fit  an  appearance  of  angels. 
There  is  no  machinery ;  there  is  no  ostentation ;  there 
is  no  undue  prominence  given  to  this  feature  of  the 
scene.     It  was  just  sketched  in  with  a  single  stroke. 

And  then,  the  appearance  of  the  Saviour  is  not  rep- 
resented so  much  by  describing  him,  as  by  describing 
the  effect  which  was  produced  upon  the  minds  of  those 
who  were  cognizant  of  his  resurrection. 

This  is  rare  art,  and  it  would  take  the  finest  skill  to 
carry  it  out,  were  it  left  to  skill.  We  shall  not  find,  in 
all  this  history,  a  single  mis-stroke.  The  most  stupen- 
dous thing  to  be  done  is  done  freely,  and  strongly, 
and  perfectly  ;  and  yet  it  is  done  without  a  mistake. 
Not  a  line  could  be  obliterated.  There  is  not  one 
misadjustment.  It  agrees  entirely  with  all  that  we 
know.  The  more  critical  we  are,  the  better.  All  we 
know  of  human  nature  is  met,  and  we  are  more  than 
pleased  —  we  are  surprised  —  at  every  step. 

Take  the  picture,  for  instance,  of  serenity.  As  we 
read  this  connected  history,  it  seems  as  though  the  cru- 
cifixion was  like  one  of  those  summer  thunder-storms 
in  which  all  the  heavens  appear  to  be  full  of  dark- 
ness, and  conflict,  and  turmoil.  The  terrible  thunder- 
cracks  that  roll  through  the  darkness ;  the  great 
striving  winds  that  now  tug  at  the  trees  which  gro.an 
under  their  hands,  and  that  now  beat  on  the  house ; 
the  hissing  rain  ;  all  the  wild  commotion  of  the  ele- 
ments, —  these  fill  the  soul  full  of  imaginations  and 
strange  terrors.  And  yet  we  sleep,  and  wake,  and 
sleep ;   and  when  the  morning  comes  there   is  not  a 


CHRIST'S  BETRAYAL,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.    257 

cloud  in  the  air.  It  is  as  if  the  heavens  Mere  one 
vast  bowl,  or  goblet,  filled  with  the  wine  of  life.  And 
the  sun  seems  steeping  the  very  heavens.  Not  a  leaf 
moves  except  when  a  drop  of  water  falls  from  it  and 
changes  its  equipoise.  And  all  the  birds  sing,  and  all 
voices  seem  jubilant,  and  all  the  earth  seems  re- 
freshed and  more  beautiful.  And  so  it  affects  us  when 
we  read  of  the  tumult  of  the  crucifixion  on  Calvary, 
and  the  after  quiet. 


VOL.  II.— 17 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


THE    RESURRECTION. 


To  the  dismayed  and  terrified  followers  of  Jesus  it 
must  have  seemed  as  though  the  end  of  all  of  their 
bright  hopes  had  come. 

Their  condition  seemed  most  pitiable  to  these  men 
and  women  who  had  put  their  heart  and  faith  in  the 
Saviour,  on  seeing  that  he  did  not  know  enough  to 
avoid  his  enemies.  He  knew  that  sentence  had  been 
passed  by  the  Sanhedrim  already  upon  him,  that  he  was 
to  be  executed  in  the  secret  council  of  the  Jews  ;  and 
he  left  the  city,  and  went  to  Petraea,  in  order  to  avoid  it, 
and  preached  there  for  a  time ;  but  he  had  quietly  and 
circuitously  found  his  way  back  through  Bethany  to 
Jerusalem ;  and  at  Bethany,  on  the  death  of  his  be- 
loved, with  the  two  mourning  sisters,  he  brought  forth 
that  wonderful  miracle,  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus 
from  the  grave. 

That  precipitated  the  whole  matter,  and  it  was  this 
work  of  beneficence  that  brought  to  a  culmination  the 
determination  of  the  templars  that  he  should  perish  ; 
and  perish  he  did.  The  disciples  had  beheld  him 
through  all  his  career;  they  had  seen  the  tempest 
lifted  and  put  down  ;  they  had  seen  the  dead  rise  up; 
they  had  seen  nature  obedient  to  him  ;  they  had 
implicit  confidence  in  him.  and  he  led  them,  like  so 
many  children,  whither  he  would,  —  though  they  did 


IliiNliii'  lil 


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mm 


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I.I  ill 
III' 


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i,li!i:';l!! 


:,!':,:  r   ii-' 


ll!ltii,:t 


«ill,jil:, 


■I 


'll  i 

llllil' 


hi::'    J 


.'OtKi;,;5!l|lBfiHl!laiSE''"ill'nl| 


THE  RESURRECTION.  259 

not  understand,  or  understood  only  obscurely,  what 
he  was  and  what  was  the  grandeur  of  his  niiissioii  upon 
the  earth.  And  when  they  saw  that  man,  who  was 
mightier  than  the  storm  and  death,  now  feebler  than  his 
adversaries  of  the  Sanhedrim ;  when  they  saw  that  he 
was  seized,  and  that  when  Peter,  Peter-like,  drew  his 
sword  to  defend  him,  he  was  rebuked,  and  Christ  was  led 
away,  they  were  amazed.  It  was  all  a  night  scene,  and 
it  shifted  from  place  to  place ;  but  it  maintained  itself 
through  the  dark  hours  of  the  night,  and  at  morning 
the  matter  was  settled  ;  he  was  led  away  and  crucified. 
The  disciples  all  saw  it,  and  they  went  forth  heart-bro- 
ken, and  stood  dazed,  paralyzed,  —  the  state  they  were 
in  being  much  like  that  in  which  people  now  find  them- 
selves under  certain  great  conditions  of  alarm,  as  where 
there  is  the  cry  of  fire  in  a  crowded  audience-room,  or 
an  earthquake,  and  men  are  beside  themselves.  They 
were  all  dumb.  They  gathered  together  and  stood  and 
looked  upon  the  whole  crucifixion  scene, — the  cruellest 
thing  in  time,  and  the  most  glorious,  —  upon  the  dark- 
ness of  that  storm,  and  did  not  see  that  bow  of  salva- 
tion which  we,  looking  back,  now  see  bespanning  the 
storm  of  cruelty.  They  saw  only  the  cruelty ;  and 
what  did  it  mean  to  them  ?  That  Christ  was  sufferins:  ? 
"  Yes.  Where  is  he  ?  He  was  our  appointed  leader. 
Where  is  this  kingdom  that  he  talked  to  us  about  ?  " 
And  they  had  quarrelled  as  to  which  should  be  first 
there.  It  was  all  gone.  Everything  that  appealed  to 
the  ordinary  judgment  of  men  had  perished  in  their 
very  sight;  and  yet  they  could  not  give  him  up,  their 
imagination  had  been  fascinated,  and  their  hearts  had 
embraced  him.  It  was  love  and  imagination  ;  for  when 
they  looked  back  upon  the  scenes  of  the  past,  of  all  of 


260  THE  RESURRECTION. 

them,  not  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  not  the  storm,  not  the 
demons  cast  out,  not  the  dispossessed,  not  those  that 
were  exorcised,  not  even  death  itself  had  produced 
such  a  general  impression  upon  their  imagination  as 
Christ  when  he  was  lifted  up  upon  the  mountain,  and 
glowed  with  the  light  of  the  stars,  and  there  appeared 
two  speaking  with  him.  That  transtiguration  was  a 
vision  that  they  could  not  wipe  out.  What  we  learn 
by  imagination  is  auiong  the  most  tenacious  of  all 
our  knowledges.  Then  was  that  love  which  they 
bore  to  him  awakened,  the  love  of  every  one  of  the 
disciples  save  Judas,  —  and  he  had  some  of  it  too  ;  for 
the  remorse  of  Judas  that  led  him  to  suicide  was  not 
the  remorse  of  a  man's  conscience,  but  the  remorse  of 
a  man's  love.  Now  all  of  it  was  collapsed,  all  of  it  was 
crushed,  absolutely. 

They  had  been  deceived.  They  had  been  wandering 
around  for  some  months  and  years  with  him,  and  they 
had  hoped  that  it  would  have  been  he  that  should 
restore  Israel.  The  restoration  meant  to  them  a  great 
deal  more  than  it  did  to  Christ ;  but  still  it  was  all  in 
their  mind,  and  they  thought  this  to  be  the  eve  of 
triumph,  and  instantly,  almost  as  by  a  sudden  blow, 
everything  came  to  an  end ;  and  they  huddled  together 
in  a  room  ;  and  we  may  well  believe  they  did  not  show 
themselves  very  much  in  Jerusalem.  What  they  must 
have  whispered  to  each  other,  what  their  communings 
must  have  been,  w^e  know  not.  Oh,  for  one  or  two 
more  chapters  in  the  Gospels  ! 

The  w^omen,  however,  who  were  the  most  deep-lov- 
ing, —  they  also  thought  he  was  dead,  and  they  claimed 
the  privilege  of  the  last  rites  of  sepulture.  They 
claimed  the  privilege  of  embalming  him.      Joseph  of 


THE  RESURRECTION.  261 

Arimatliea,  a  rich  but  a  timid  man,  gained  strength 
as  many  timid  men  do  in  the  hour  when  their  hearts 
are  touched  to  their  depths.  He  and  Nicodemus,  who 
was  not  a  timid  man,  but  who  was  quiet  and  undemon- 
strative, went  bokllj  in  that  hour  of  extremest  danger 
unto  Pilate,  and  asked  for  the  body  of  Jesus  ;  and  it  was 
rendered  to  them. 

The  Jews  could  not  go  in  on  account  of  the  Passover. 
You  notice  that  the  rabble  Jews  and  the  priestly  Jews 
could  stand  and  demand  the  execution  of  an  innocent 
man,  but  they  could  not  break  an  external  ordinance, 
—  like  the  banditti  of  Italy,  who  are  afraid  to  go  by 
the  statue  of  the  Virgin  Mary  without  bowing,  and 
crossing  themselves,  and  praying  to  it,  but  who  can 
stab  a  man.  They  can  commit  a  crime,  but  they  can- 
not break  a  superstition.  So  they  waited  until  the  Sab- 
bath was  over.  Even  love  itself  was  held  back  by 
superstition,  for  those  who  in  love  were  preparing  to 
embalm  the  body,  ''  rested  the  Sabbath  day  according 
to  the  commandment." 

"  Then  took  they  the  body  of  Jesus  "and  wrapped  it 
in  the  linen,  with  the  spices,  as  the  manner  of  the  Jews 
is  to  bury,  and  laid  it  in  Joseph's  own  new  sepulchre 
which  he  had  hewn  out  in  the  rock,  and  he  rolled 
a  great  stone  to  the  door  of  the  sepulchre  and 
departed. 

"  Now  in  the  place  where  he  was  crucified  there  was 
a  garden,  and  in  the  garden  this  new  sepulchre,  where- 
in was  never  man  yet  laid.  There  laid  they  Jesus 
therefore  because  of  the  Jews'  preparation  day ;  for 
the  sepulchre  was  nigh  at  hand. 

"  And  the  women  also,  which  came  with  him  from 
Galilee,  Mary  Magdalene  and  Mary  the  mother  of  James, 


262  THE  RESURRECTION. 

followed  after,  and  sitting  over  against  the  sepulchre, 
beheld  the  sepulchre  and  how  his  body  w\as  laid." 

How  strange  a  watch  was  that !  How  strange  a  com- 
bination of  circumstances,  that  the  cross  should  have 
been  lifted  up  so  near  to  a  garden  ;  that  the  garden, 
of  all  places,  should  have  held,  amid  its  treasures,  such 
a  thing  as  a  sepulchre  hewn  in  a  rock ;  that  thus  a  cold 
grave  should  have  been  embosomed  among  flowers, 
and  waited,  for  weeks,  and  months,  and  years,  the 
coming  of  its  sacred  guest !  And  now,  how  striking 
the  picture  !  A  few  words,  and  the  whole  stands  open 
to  the  imagination  as  to  the  very  sight !  The  two 
women,  side  by  side,  silent,  and  yet  knowing  each 
other's  thoughts,  with  one  grief,  with  one  yearning, 
with  one  suffering !  Home  was  forgotten,  and  na- 
ture itself  was  unheeded.  The  odorous  vines,  the 
generous  blossoms,  the  world  of  sights  around  them, 
'were  as  if  they  were  not.  There  was  the  rock,  and 
only  that  to  them.  There  was  neither  daylight,  nor 
summer,  nor  balm,  nor  perfume.  There  were  no 
lilies  by  their  feet,  nor  roses  around  them  ;  for  though 
there  were  ten  thousand  of  them,  there  was  to  them 
only  that  cold,  gray,  sepulchral  rock. 

See  what  a  life  theirs  had  been.  They  had  lived 
years  without  fulfilling  one  year.  They  had  loved 
without  really  loving.  They  had  known  without 
really  knowing.  Their  nature  and  full  power  lay  in 
them,  but  as  buds  lie  in  branches  ;  and  there  had  been 
no  summer  to  bring  them  forth.  Only  when  Christ 
came  did  they  find  themselves ;  for  men  never  can  find 
themselves  of  themselves,  but  always  in  the  touch  of 
some  other  and  higher  one.  And  only  then,  when 
these   women   saw  a  nature    full    of   strength,  full   of 


THE  RESURRECTION.  263 

purity,  with  a  heart  that  went  like  summer  through 
the  land,  did  they  know  what  it  was  to  live.  Before, 
they  had  been  as  they  are  who,  neither  asleep  nor 
awake,  hover  between  dreams  and  realities,  fully  pos- 
sessed by  neither.  But  in  tlie  full  presence  of  Christ 
these  Marys  received  their  own  life.  They  loved,  and 
loved  worthily  and  upwardly.  And  then  they  knew 
what  hidden  life  the  soul  possesses. 

New  life  had  blossomed  at  every  step  to  them.  There 
can  be  no  barrenness,  in  full  summer.  The  very  sand 
will  yield  something. 

Rocks  will  have  mosses,  and  every  rift  will  have  its 
wind-flower  and.  every  crevice  a  leaf,  while  from  the 
fertile  soil  will  be  reared  a  gorgeous  troop  of  growths 
that  will  carry  their  life  in  ten  thousand  forms,  but 
all  with  praise  to  God.  And  so  it  is  when  the  soul 
knows  its  summer.  Love  redeems  its  weakness,  clothes 
its  barrenness,  enriches  its  poverty,  and  makes  its  very 
desert  to  bud  and  blossom  as  the  rose.  And  these 
two  Marys  had  in  the  presence  of  Christ  waked  into 
life.  They  were  not  born  until  he  gave  them  their 
life.  They  followed,  therefore,  reverently,  all  his  goings. 
They  waited  for  him  when  absent  as  they  that  wait  for 
the  morning.  Now  there  was  a  future  to  them.  Every 
day  increased  their  conscious  treasure.  Each  day,  how- 
ever, they  knew  that  they  had  come  to  the  end  and 
bound  of  their  capacity,  were  full,  and  could  hold  no 
more  love,  nor  joy  of  loving.  And  yet  every  next 
day  they  smiled  at  the  barrenness  of  the  past,  and  won- 
dered how  that  could  have  seemed  enoug-h  which  was 
so  much  less  than  the  present. 

The  future  glowed  brighter  and  brighter  to  them. 
Not  that  they  were  not  mortal,  and  did  not  expect 


264  THE  RESURRECTTON. 

troubles.  But  storms,  even,  are  nidiant  when  the  sun 
shines  upon  them,  and  troubles  upon  an  orb  of  hope 
and  love  are  sunlit  clouds,  whose  gorgeous  hues  take 
all  terror  from  the  bolt  and  the  stroke. 

And  so  these  loving  souls,  we  may  suppose,  followed 
Christ,  and  found  a  daily  heaven.  His  serene  nature ; 
his  beneficence  ;  his  all-encompassing  sympathy ;  his 
disinterestedness,  that  gave  everything  but  asked  noth- 
ing ;  his  supernal  wisdom ;  his  power  over  life  ;  his 
regency  over  nature ;  his  lordship  over  the  winds,  that 
flew  to  his  hand  as  a  dove  to  its  nest ;  his  mastery  over 
darkness  and  death  itself,  calling  back  the  departed 
spirit  from  its  far-off  wandering  to  life  again ;  his 
effluent  glory,  as  he  hung  in  mid-air,  sustained  by 
white  clouds,  or  as  he  walked  the  night-sea,  carpeted 
with  darkness ;  but,  above  all,  that  inspiration,  that 
heavenly  purity,  that  spiritual  life  that  touched  their 
life,  and  aroused  them  as  never  before  they  were 
aroused, — in  short,  the  presence  of  their  God!  —  all 
these  things,  abiding  with  them,  travelling  from  day 
to  day  with  them,  measuring  out  their  golden  year, 
gave  them  their  first  full  knowledge  of  life  as  the 
soul  recognizes  it!  And  these  were,  to  their  fond 
hope,  doubtless,  a  perpetual  gift. 

Nothing  seems  ever  to  have  awakened  the  disciples 
to  such  instant  fear,  even  to  chiding  and  rebuke,  as  the 
intimation  of  their  Master  that  he  would  leave  them. 
It  seemed  like  a  threat  of  destruction  to  them.  They 
were  the  more  amazed  and  confounded,  therefore, 
when  the  treacherous  disciple  betrayed  him,  when  he 
yielded  himself  to  authority,  when  injustice  condemned 
him,  smote  him,  tortured  him,  crucified  him.  Life  was 
to  them  now  no  longer  a  waking  bliss,  but  the  torment 


THE  RESURRECTION.  265 

of  a  wild  and  hideous  dream ;  a  horrible  insanity  it 
seemed.  Yet  it  was  constantly  before  them.  They 
followed  him  to  the  city  ;  they  followed  him  out  of 
the  city  ;  they  followed  him  till  the  procession  stopped 
upon  the  hill ;  they  saw,  they  heard,  they  agonized. 
And  when  the  earthquake  shook  the  ground,  not  another 
thing  did  it  jar  so  heedless  and  so  grief-full  as  those 
wondering,  amazed,  and  disappointed  men  and  women. 
They  stood  in  a  very  darkness,  and  their  life  was  like 
a  grave.  All  the  past  was  a  garden,  and  this  present 
hour  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  it  like  a  sepulchre. 

At  first  grief  was  too  great.  They  were  winter- 
stricken.  The  very  rigor  of  their  sorrow  would  let 
nothing  flow.  But  as  warmth  makes  even  glaciers 
trickle,  and  opens  streams  in  the  ribs  of  frozen  moun- 
tains, so  the  heart  knows  the  full  flow  and  life  of  its 
grief  only  when  it  begins  to  melt  and  pass  away. 

There,  then,  sat  these  watchers.  The  night  came 
on,  and  the  night  went,  -'  and  there  was  Mary  Magda- 
lene, and  tlie  other  Mary,  sitting  over  against  the  sep- 
ulchre." What  to  them  was  that  sepulchre?  It  was 
the  end  and  sum  of  life.  It  was  the  evidence  and  fact 
of  vanity  and  sorrow.  It  was  an  exposition  of  their 
infatuation.  It  proved  to  them  the  folly  of  love  and 
the  weakness  of  purity.  The  noblest  experience  of  the 
purest  souls  had  ended  in  such  bitter  disappointment 
that  they  now  knew  that  they  only  are  wise  who  can 
say,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die." 
Could  such  a  one  be  stricken  and  die  ?  Could  such  a 
one  be  gathered  into  the  shapeless  rock  ?  Could  such 
a  light  go  out,  and  such  a  soul  be  overwhelmed  ? 
What  star,  then,  was  there  for  hope  in  human  life  ? 
What  was  safe  ?     What  use  in  love,  in  trust,  in  honor, 


266  THE  RESURRECTION. 

in  purity,  since  the  Head  and  Glory  of  them  all  was  not 
saved  by  them  ? 

This  rebuke  of  hfe,  of  soul,  of  their  heart-love,  at 
leno-th  drove  them  awav.  There  was  no  o:arden  to 
them  where  such  a  sepulchre  stood.  Tliey  returned  ; 
but  what  a  return  !  Thei'c  was  no  more  life  when  they 
went  away  from  him  who  had  awakened  by  love  true 
life  in  them.  The  night  was  not  half  so  dark  as  were 
tlieir  souls.  In  a  great  affliction  there  is  no  light  either 
in  the  stars  or  in  the  sun.     For  when  the  inner  lioht  is 

o 

fed  with  fragrant  oil  there  can  be  no  darkness  though 
the  sun  should  go  out;  but  when,  like  a  sacred  lamp 
in  the  temple,  the  inward  light  is  quenched,  there  is  no 
light  outwardly,  though  a  thousand  suns  should  preside 
in  the  heavens.     To  them  life  was  all  darkness. 

And  yet,  while  that  garden  held  the  sepulchre,  and 
the  women  sat  watching  it,  and  saw  on\y  darkness  and 
desolation,  how  blind  they  were !  How  little,  after 
all,  did  they  know  !  AVhen  first  all  was  a  bright  cer- 
tainty, how  little  then  did  they  know !  And  when 
afterward,  all  was  dark  woe,  how  little  yet  did  they 
know  !  The  darkness  and  the  light  were  both  alike  to 
them,  for  they  were  ignorant  alike  of  both.  How  little 
did  they  expect  or  suspect !  Of  all  the  garden,  only  the 
rock  itself  was  a  true  soil,  for  in  it  lay  the  "  root  of 
David."  Forth  from  that  unlikely  spot  should  come  a 
flower  whose  blossom  w^ould  restore  Eden  to  the  world ; 
for  if  a  garden  saw  man's  fall,  forth  from  the  garden 
came  his  life  again.  But  their  eyes  were  holden  that 
they  should  not  see.  Their  hearts  were  burdened  that 
they  should  not  know.  They  saw  only  the  sepulchre, 
and  the  stone  rolled  against  the  door.  They  saw,  they 
felt,  they  despaired. 


THE  RESURRECTION.  267 

And  yet,  against  sight,  against  sense,  against  hope, 
they  lingered.  If  tliey  departed  they  could  not  abide 
avvay ;  they  must  needs  come  again  ;  for  "  in  the  end 
of  the  Sabbath,  as  it  began  to  da^vn  toward  the  first 
day  of  the  week,  came  Mary  Magdalene,  and  the  other 
Mary,  to  see  the  sepulchre.  And  behold  there  was  a 
great  earthquake  ;  for  the  angel  of  the  Lord  descended 
from  heaven  and  came  and  rolled  back  the  stone  from 
the  door,  and  [like  them  that  triumph]  sat  upon  it." 
But  just  now  their  sad  musings,  the  utter  despair  of 
the  reason  and  of  the  senses,  the  anxiety,  the  vigilance 
of  the  heart,  —  these  were  the  only  things  that  were 
left  to  them.  And  yet,  as  in  many  cases,  their  hearts 
proved  surer  and  better  guides  than  their  reason  or 
their  thoughts ;  for  as  a  root  scents  moisture  in  a  dry 
place,  or  a  plant  even  in  darkness  aims  always  at  the 
light,  so  the  heart  forever  aims  at  hope  and  at  immor- 
tality. And  it  was  a  woman's  heart  here  that  hung  as 
the  morninoj  star  of  that  bright  rising  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness. 

It  was  love  and  fidelity  that  first  found  out  the  res- 
urrection, and  it  was  not  the  love  of  the  disciple  band 
—  not  even  of  John  ;  but  the  deeper  and  more  tender 
love  of  woman  was  the  pioneer  of  discovery.  The  dis- 
ciples doubtless  held  in  their  hearts  the  memory  of 
Christ.  We  may  well  suppose  that  theirs  was  a  sleep- 
less night,  a  night  of  watching,  of  prayer,  and  of  suppli- 
cation ;  but  the  night  and  the  morning  to  the  women 
were  of  tender  service.  It  was  still  the  heart  of 
woman  to  do.  It  was  still  the  labor  of  her  hand,  if 
might  be,  to  crown  with  memorials  of  tenderest  affec- 
tion, the  form  from  which  the  life  liad  passed.  Mary 
Magdalene,  Mary  the  mother  of  Jauies,  and  Joanna,  and 


268  THE  RESURRECTION. 

other  women,  were  present.  They  had  come  laden 
with  ohitnients  for  embahiiing  the  body.  They  had 
no  hope  to  see  the  eye  beam  upon  them  again.  They 
never  expected  to  hear  those  words  from  liis  Hps  which 
had  thrilled  their  hearts  before.  It  was  a  service  of 
disinterested,  complete,  and  ever-remembering  love, 
such  as  women's  hearts  know  best  how  to  cherish  and 
how  to  express. 

They  gathered  about  the  twilight  tomb.  They 
came,  and  oh  !  surprising  was  the  sight.  That  mas- 
sive stone,  vvliich  defied  the  lifting  of  their  tender 
hands,  was  already  rolled  away,  though  on  the  road 
they  had  communed  with  each  other  how  they  might 
gain  entrance  to  bestow  their  pious  care  upon  the  body 
of  the  Saviour.  And  on  the  stone  sat  the  angel.  Two 
there  had  been, —  the  angel  at  the  head,  and  the  angel 
at  the  feet.  Francesco  Francia  of  old  has  represented 
these  two  angels  most  exquisitely, —  one  as  the  angel 
of  the  past,  remembering  grief,  and  the  other  as  the 
angel  of  the  future,  only  hoping  for  the  time  to  come. 
And  so  one  angelic  form  is  sad,  and  the  other  is  bright 
and  radiant. 

The  women  counted  not  these  things,  —  they  felt, 
they  communed,  with  full  alarm  and  full  joy ;  for  both 
strove  within  them  for  expression. 

The  narrative  is  as  dramatic  as  words  can  be  made. 
It  came  to  pass,  as  they  were  much  perplexed  there- 
about, entering  again  into  the  sepulchre,  behold,  they 
saw  two  young  men  sitting  on  the  right  side,  clothed 
in  long,  white,  and  shining  garments.  And  t\\Qy  were 
afraid.  And  as  the  ^vomon  bowed  down  their  faces  to 
the  earth,  in  obeisance  —  for  there  was  something  di- 
vine in  their  appearance  -    the  men  answered  and  said 


THE  RESURRECTION-  269 

unto  them,  "  Be  ye  not  affrighted,  for  we  know  that  ye 
seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  that  was  criicitiecl.  Why  seek 
ye  the  living  among  the  dead  ?  He  is  not  here.  He  is 
risen,  as  he  said."  And  they  remembered  his  words. 
And  they  departed  quickly,  and  fled  from  the  sepulchre, 
with  fear  and  great  joy.  For  they  trembled,  and  were 
amazed.  Neither  said  they  anything.  For  they  were 
afraid,  and  did  run  to  bring  his  disciples  word. 

But  Christ  was  yet  lingering  in  the  garden.  He  had 
not  gone  forth.  He  knew  that  they  were  coming.  He 
had  already  by  that  divine  insight  which  he  had,  per- 
ceived their  coming  on,  and  waited  for  them. 

It  is  somewhat  significant  that  he  did  not  go  to  the 
great  city  over  against  him.  There  is  no  evidence  that 
he  went  to  it  at  all.  It  was  then  coming  slowly  into 
liirht.  There  was  nothiny;  in  Jerusalem  that  his  heart 
craved  to  see  again.  Galilee  was  his  early  home,  and 
it  was  thither  that  his  thoughts  were  now  moving. 
And  therefore  it  was  that  he  charged  those  that  first 
found  him  to  go  on  toward  Galilee. 

His  first  words  are  memorable  in  this,  that  he  seems, 
without  saying  it,  to  have  turned  away  from  Jerusalem, 
the  scene  of  his  trial,  of  his  shame,  of  his  suffering,  of 
his  anguish,  of  his  death,  and  points  back  again  to 
Galilee,  the  scene  of  his  fair  youth,  the  sweet  remem- 
brances of  which  doubtless  came  back  to  him  even  in 
this  hour  of  the  morniny;  of  the  resurrection. 

"  As  they  went  to  tell  his  disciples,  behold,  Jesus  met 
them,  saying,  All  hail !  And  they  came  and  held  him 
by  his  feet  and  worshipped  him.  And  then  said  Jesus, 
Be  not  afraid  !  " 

"  All  hail !  be  not  afraid."  Within  the  hour  of  his 
coming  forth,  doubtless  they  had  met  him.     The  cool 


270  THE  RESURRECTION. 

of  the  rock  was  yet  upon  his  brow;  the  sadness  of 
death  was  yet  scarcely  cleansed  from  his  eye.  He  came 
from  death  and  the  grave,  saying,  "  All  hail !  be  not 
airaid."  These  are  the  words  of  cheer  and  hope  he 
brought  from  the  grave  with  him. 

His  was  the  inspiration  of  the  other  world,  coming 
through,  as  a  narrow  passage,  the  grave,  the  rock  grave. 
He  spake  in  the  spirit  of  the  land  from  which  he  had 
come ;  and  to  every  one  who  has  heard  of  Jesus,  from 
that  day  to  this,  that  voice  still  rings  out.  His  saluta- 
tion to  each  one  is,  "  All  hail!"  and  to  every  one  his 
greeting  is,  "  Be  not  afraid." 

Then  in  their  joy  —  for  all  love-joy  seeks  to  diifupe 
itself  and  make  others  happy  —  these  loving  women  go 
back  and  re})ort  to  the  disciples,  the  apostles  among 
them,  what  they  have  found.  Two  of  the  apostles 
started.  Peter  was  one,  we  would  guess  at  once;  John 
was  the  other, — Peter  and  John.  Then  began  that 
race,  that  immortal  race,  between  John  and  Peter.  John 
is  a  modest  man,  who  hardly  ever  cares  to  mention  his 
own  name.  He  uses  such  periphrastic  expressions  as 
"  the  man  that  lay  his  head  on  Christ's  bosom,  whom 
Jesus  loved."  Here  he  says,  ''that  other  disciple." 
John  and  Peter  raced.  John  was  a  very  modest  man  ; 
but  he  could  not  forget  to  put  in  what  no  mythical  or 
later  man  would  have  put  in,  that  the  other  disciple 
outran  Peter.     He  did  outrun  him,  and  got  there  first. 

Then  there  is  another  exquisite  touch  here.  John 
had  all  the  sensibility  of  love.  He  had  a  certain  re- 
finement of  feeling  that  prevented  his  plunging  head- 
loner  into  the  grave,  like  a  wild  buffalo  into  a  river  for 
water,  after  thirst  has  parched  his  tongue.  John  comes 
running,  and  stops  at  the  sepulchre,  and  looks  down 


THE  RESURRECTION.  271 

into  it,  and  sees  the  raiment.  "Yet  went  he  not  in." 
But  Peter,  out  of  breath  and  rushing,  came  there,  and 
seeing-  it,  went  down  into  the  sepulchre  without  any 
ceremony  at  all. 

Peter  was  a  very  nervous  man,  with  a  good  deal  of 
self-consciousness,  that  breaks  out  everywhere  and  all 
the  time.  He  was  the  man  who,  when  the  transfigura- 
tion was  over,  and  Christ  began  to  reveal  to  the  dis- 
ciples what  was  just  on  the  eve  of  happening, — how 
he  was  to  be  seized,  to  be  condemned,  and  to  be  exe- 
cuted,—  took  hold  of  the  Master,  and  said,  "It  shall 
never  be  !  "  Christ  rebuked  him,  and  said,  "  Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan."  It  was  an  impertinence  through 
over-zeal  that  ruffled  the  calm  demeanor  of  the  Saviour, 
and  caused  him  to  rebuke  Peter  with  severity.  When 
the  servant  of  the  high  priest  was  near  Peter,  he  lost 
an  ear  by  Peter's  sword.  Peter  was  all  the  time  for- 
ward, foremost,  and  almost  always  with  good  inten- 
tions ;  yet  his  zeal  was  not  fed  from  the  heart ;  it  was 
not  fed  from  the  head  ;  it  was  the  impulse  of  blood. 
His  was  an  organization  so  nervous  and  so  prompt  that 
his  senses  interpreted  to  him  his  duty.  He  went  off 
instantly  on  every  occasion,  whether  of  speech  or  of 
conduct,  by  impulse,  not  by  any  reflection. 

John  was  a  passionate  man,  too,  for  he  was  joined 
with  Peter  in  praying  that  fire  might  come  down  from 
heaven  upon  the  Samaritans.  But  reflection  grew  with 
him,  as  action  tended  to  grow  with  Peter.  He  lived 
a  more  inward  life  than  Peter,  more  and  more. 

Thus  these  two  men,  so  very  different,  yet  so  neces- 
sary to  each  other,  companion-apostles,  working  to- 
gether in  the  same  cause,  for  the  same  Master,  and 
under  the  same  general  influence,  but  each  working  ac- 


272  THE  RESURRECTION. 

cording  to  the  peculiar  disposition  that  had  been  given 
to  him, —  these  two  men  ran  the  race  to  the  sepulchre  ; 
and  in  that  race  love  and  reflection  outstripped  love 
and  impulse. 

"  Then  cometh  Simon  Peter  following  him,  and  went 
into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  the  linen  clothes  lie,  and 
the  napkin  that  was  about  his  head  not  lying  with  the 
linen  clothes,  but  wrapt  together  in  a  place  by  itself." 

It  seems  strange  that  some  things  are  told  from 
which  we  apparently  can  extract  nothing,  while  other 
things  are  left  out  which  would  interpret  to  us  our 
spiritual  nature,  which  pertain  to  the  great  cardinal 
facts  of  our  immortality,  and  which  seem  to  be  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  our  mortal  condition.  And  why 
this  apparently  insignificant  fact,  that  the  napkin  did 
not  lie  with  the  body  clothes,  should  be  carefully  in- 
serted, it  is  difficult  to  understand. 

"Then  went  in  also  the  other  disciple,"  —  that  is, 
John,  — ''  which  came  first  to  the  sepulchre,  and  he  saw 
and  believed." 

To  us  who  have  been  taught,  ever  since  we  under- 
stood anything,  to  believe  that  the  Lord  was  raised 
from  the  dead^  it  seems  very  strange  that  these  men 
did  not  believe  it,  who  had  been  his  bodyguard  dis- 
ciples. But  it  is  added :  "  For  as  yet  they  knew  not 
the  scripture,  that  he  must  rise  again  from  the  dead." 

That  was  the  first  time  that  the  disciple  who  laid  his 
head  on  the  Master's  bosom,  and  questioned  him  to  the 
full,  understood  that  Christ  was  literally  to  die,  to  be 
buried,  and  to  be  raised  from  the  dead.  The  Master 
told  him  as  plainly  as  words  could  tell,  once  and  again, 
and  often ;  and  yet,  here  is  the  testimony,  not  only 
that  the  events  had  taken  place,  but  that  the  disciples, 


THE  RESURRECTION.  273 

and  even  John  among  them,  did  not  believe  in  their 
occurrence.  So,  then,  believing  depends  on  something 
more  than  a  mere  instructing  or  mere  telling. 

"  Then  the  disciples  went  away  again  unto  their  own 
home." 

Now  comes  the  narrative  of  Mary  Magdalene.  It 
seems  that  during  this  race  of  the  apostles  she  had  fol- 
lowed at  her  own  pace,  and  had  not,  so  far  as  we  know, 
mingled  in  their  confidence.  She  merely  stood  with 
them.  But  now  she  is  advanced  to  be  the  prominent 
figure  in  the  picture. 

"  Mary  stood  without  at  the  sepulchre  weeping,  and 
as  she  wept,  she  stooped  down  and  looked  into  the 
sepulchre." 

All  these  memorials  that  she  beheld  called  back  to 
her  what  she  had  lost.  The  feelings  that  welled  up  and 
expressed  themselves  without  restraint  in  the  bosom  of 
the  disciples  bore  witness  to  the  strong  impression  that 
had  been  produced  upon  them  by  the  Master  while  he 
was  yet  with  them. 

"  She  looked  into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  two  angels 
in  white,  sitting  the  one  at  the  head  and  the  other  at 
the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain." 

Mary  did  not  speak  to  the  angels.  Who  would  have 
addressed  himself  to  spirits  apparent  ?  "  They  say  un- 
to her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thon  ?  "  A  man  might 
tremble  if  an  angel  spoke  to  him ;  but  not  a  woman. 
Women  are  nearer  akin  to  angels  than  men  are.  "  She 
saith  unto  them,  Because  they  have  taken  away  my 
Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him." 

We  should  take  heed  to  this  fact :  that  in  searching 
after  Christ  her  thoughts  were  fixed  upon  his  body. 
The  ninth  verse  (John  xx.)  says  that  the  disciples  (and 

VOL.  II. 18 


274  TUE  RESURRECTION. 

the  same  was  unquestionably  true  of  her)  did  not  be- 
lieve ill  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection.  They  were 
materialists.  And  when  she  looked  in,  and  the  angels 
asked  her  why  she  wept,  and,  by  implication,  what  she 
sought,  she  said,  "  They  have  taken  away  my  Lord, 
and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him."  She  fol- 
lowed after  his  outward  form,  and  fain  would  have 
found  that  and  bestowed  on  it  all  the  testimonials  of 
her  deep  and  unfaltering  love. 

"  And  when  she  had  thus  said,  she  turned  herself 
back  "  —  doubtless  hearing  some  sound  —  "  and  saw 
Jesus  standing,  and  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus." 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  her,"  —  exactly  what  the  angels 
had  said,  —  "  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  whom  seek- 
est  thou  ?  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener, 
saith  unto  him.  Sir,  if  thou  hast  borne  him  hence, 
tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him 
away." 

Idolatrous  love,  seeking  still  the  material  form  of 
the  Saviour.  Koble  love,  full  of  fidelity,  but  low ; 
low,  because  yet  following  after  Christ's  literal  body. 
But  she  did  not  understand  his  voice ;  her  ears  did 
not  interpret  anything  to  her.  She  did  not  recognize 
his  form  and  face ;  her  eyes  did  not  interpret  any- 
thing to  her.  It  is  said  by  some  that  death  had  so 
changed  him  that  she  did  not  know  him.  There  is 
no  evidence  of  this.  It  is  said  by  others  that  her  own 
condition  was  such  that  she  could  not  recognize  him ; 
that  she  was  so  overpowered  by  grief,  till  the  tears  had 
woven  a  veil  before  her  eyes,  that  she  could  not  see 
him.  But  such  love  as  hers  would  see  through  any 
veil.  If  Christ  had  stood  in  his  own  lineaments,  and 
if  he  had  spoken  in   his  own  voice,  she  would   have 


THE  RESURRECTION.  275 

recognized  and  known  him  by  the  eye  and  the  ear. 
The  plain  reason  why  she  did  not  is  that  Christ  did 
not  design  that  she  should.  He  appeared  to  her 
differently  from  what  he  had  done  before.  We  are 
scarcely  left  in  doubt  respecting  this ;  for,  if  we  turn 
to  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Luke  and  the  six- 
teenth verse,  we  find  an  almost  parallel  case,  where 
when  the  disciples  were  walking  to  Emmaus,  Christ 
held  their  eyes,  as  it  is  said.  That  is,  he  held  them  so 
that  they  did  not  see  him  in  his  proper  form.  They 
did  not  recognize  him ;  and  it  was  the  result  of  his 
action  upon  them. 

It  is  very  plain,  then,  that  in  Christ's  appearing 
after  his  resurrection  to  his  disciples,  he  did  for  rea- 
sons which  were  known  to  himself,  sometimes  choose 
to  appear  unknown  to  them.  And  unquestionably  it 
was  so  in  the  case  of  Mary.  And  the  reason  why  she 
did  not  see  and  know  him  was  that  he  presented  him- 
self in  a  strange  manner  on  purpose  that  she  should 
not  know  him.  This  is  made  all  the  plainer  when 
Christ  changes  his  voice  back  to  its  old  tones  and 
inflections. 

"  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener,  saith  unto 
him.  Sir,  if  thou  hast  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where 
thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away." 

Now  all  disguise  is  laid  aside. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Marv." 

There  is  a  deeper  psychological  truth  in  that  word 
than  in  any  other  in  the  Bible,  except  the  one  that 
follows  as  her  reply.  One  single  name  is  the  history 
of  a  whole  life,  and  the  tone  in  which  a  name  may 
be  uttered  involves  all  the  feelings  that  belong  to  the 
history  of  a  whole   life.     Knowing,  trusting,   loving, 


276  TUE  RESURRECTION. 

all  of  them  are  bound  up  in  one  single  word  ;  and  to 
say  "  Mary"  was  to  say  everything.  It  did  say  every- 
thing to  her. 

Now  comes  the  most  remarkable  part  of  all  this 
scene.  Only  by  the  answer  of  Christ  is  it  known  tlnit 
Mary,  on  hearing  her  name  called,  and  uttering  the 
exclamation  that  is  ascribed  to  her,  rushed  forward 
instinctively  to  clasp  the  Saviour  in  her  arms.  She 
did  what  love  should  have  made  her  do,  and  what 
every  mother  would  have  done,  what  every  sister 
would  have  done,  what  every  loving  heart  would 
have  done,  on  the  first  impulse  of  surprise  and  affec- 
tion. She  sought  to  seize  the  object  toward  which  her 
whole  being  went  out,  and  detain  it  for  one  moment 
in  her  grasp.     Yet  the  narrative  does  not  say  so. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary.  She  turned  herself, 
and  saith  unto  him,  Rabboni,  which  is  to  say.  Master. 
Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Touch  me  not ;  for  I  am  not  yet 
ascended  to  my  Father." 

Only  by  this  last  sentence  do  we  know  what  was  her 
spontaneous  action.  And  the  question  arises.  Why  did 
Christ  forbid  her  to  touch  him  ? 

Why  should  Christ  say  to  this  noble,  loving  heart, 
"  Touch  me  not."  Up  to  this  time  both  she  and  the 
disciples  had  addressed  him  only  with  their  natural 
feelintrs.  Her  whole  mind  rested  upon  Christ  as  a 
bodily  person, —  as  one  living  in  this  life  so  long  as 
he  was  present  with  her.  In  the  early  parts  of  his 
ministry,  she  felt,  *•  He  is  alive,  and  ours  ;  "  but  when 
he  had  died,  and  was  gone,  she  had  no  power  to  con- 
ceive of  his  living  except  in  the  bodily  condition  ;  and 
all  that  she  aspired  to  do  was  to  follow  his  body.  She 
had   fixed    her  soul  on   Christ  as  a  bodily  existence. 


THE  RKSURRECriON.  277 

She  mourned  him  as  dead,  because  his  body  had  died. 
She  sought  after  that,  wishing  to  embahu  and  anoint 
it.  To  recover  that  was  the  great  desire  of  her  heart. 
Therefore,  when  she  saw  Christ,  she  said,  "  He  is  alive, 
because  his  body  is  here;"  and  she  would  instantly 
have  clasped  him  in  her  arms,  to  make  certain  of  keep- 
ing him.  But  Christ  said,  "  Stop  !  stop  !  do  not  touch 
me.  I  am  more  than  body.  Although  I  have  not  yet 
ascended  to  my  Father,  and  taken  my  spiritual  form 
permanently,  I  am  a  spirit."  This  was  the  teaching 
that  beamed  forth  in  these  words.  He  sought,  in 
that  moment,  when  her  soul  was  opened,  furrowed, 
and  when  seeds  could  be  sown  that  would  never  for- 
sake her,  to  impress  upon  her  that  reality.  The  dis- 
ciples had  not  all  learned,  during  the  three  years  that 
they  had  been  with  Christ,  that  he  must  die. 

We  mark  the  grace  and  tenderness  of  Christ  in 
adapting  himself  to  the  wants  of  each  one.  To  doubt- 
ing Thomas  he  said,  "  Touch  me."  That  he  thought 
to  be  the  most  effectual  method  of  teaching  him  what 
he  most  needed  to  know.  To  Mary,  the  heart-loving 
one,  he  said,  "  You  ought  to  have  your  understanding 
inwardly  open  to  perceive  that  I  live,  not  because  I  am 
before  you  in  the  body,  but  because  I  am  a  spirit. 
You  should  learn  not  only  that  I  am  a  visible  person- 
age, whose  voice  you  can  hear,  to  whom  you  can  speak, 
and  about  whom  you  can  throw  your  arms,  but  that  I 
am  your  invisible  God.  Do  not  touch  me.  Help  your- 
self by  your  senses  no  longer.  Come  to  me  by  the 
heart  and  by  your  spiritual  nature."  Thus  he  dealt 
with  Mary  in  one  way,  and  with  Thomas  in  another. 
And  afterwards  he  dealt  with  Paul  in  still  another  way, 
by  an  overwhelming  display  that  took  from  him  almost 


278  THE  RESURRECTION. 

all  sense,  that  blinded  liim,  that  stunned  him,  and 
that  wrought  conviction  in  him  by  most  extraordinary 
processes. 

Peter  and  John  had  evidently  left  the  garden  and 
returned  home,  without  seeing  Jesus.  Mary  hastened 
to  find  the  other  disciples.  She  came  and  told  them, 
as  they  mourned  and  wept,  that  she  had  seen  the  Lord 
and  that  he  had  spoken  to  her;  "and  they,  when  they 
had  heard  that  he  was  alive,  and  had  been  seen  of  her, 
believed  not." 

On  this  same  day  and  while  the  disciples  were  still 
wondering  over  the  news  of  Jesus's  resurrection  as  re- 
ported to  them  by  the  women,  he  appears  again  to 
two  of  them.  It  is  given  in  Luke  with  more  than 
usual  detail. 

"  Two  of  them  [two  of  the  disciples]  went  that  same 
day  to  a  village  called  Emmaus,  which  was  from  Jeru- 
salem about  three-score  furlongs.  And  they  talked 
together  of  these  things  which  had  happened.  And  it 
came  to  pass  that,  while  they  communed  together  and 
reasoned,  Jesus  himself  drew  near,  and  went  with 
them."  As  a  good  traveller,  he  falls  into  companion- 
sliip  with  them.  '•  But  their  eyes  were  holden  that 
they  should  not  know  him." 

"  And  [not  revealing  himself  with  that  kind  of 
frankness  which  might  have  been  expected,  but  carry- 
ing himself  in  a  sort  of  dramatic,  mysterious  way,  as  if 
he  were  standing  outside  of  their  acquaintance  to  see 
exactly  how  their  minds  would  work]  he  said  unto 
them,  What  manner  of  communications  are  these 
that  3  e  have  one  to  another,  as  ye  walk,  and  are 
sad  ?  "     He  read    their  countenances. 

"  And  the  one  of   them  whose  name  was   Cleopas, 


THE  RESURRECTION.  279 

answering,  said  unto  him,  Art  thou  only  a  stranger  in 
Jerusalem,  and  hast  thou  not  known  the  things  which 
are  come  to  pass  there  in  these  days?  " 

We  should  have  expected  him  to  say  either  yes  or 
no;  but  he  said,  "  What  things?"  as  if  he  did  not 
know.  And  they  said,  "  Concerning  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
which  was  a  prophet  mighty  in  deed  and  word  before 
God  and  all  the  people  ;  and  how  the  chief  priests  and 
our  rulers  delivered  him  to  be  condemned  to  death, 
and  have  crucified  him.  But  we  trusted  that  it  had 
been  he  which  should  have  redeemed  Israel :  and 
besides  all  this,  to-day  is  the  third  day  since  these 
things  were  done.  Yea,  and  certain  women  also  of 
our  company  made  us  astonished,  which  were  early  at 
the  sepulchre ;  and  when  they  found  not  his  body,  they 
came,  saying  that  they  had  also  seen  a  vision  of 
angels,  which  said  that  he  was  alive.  And  certain  of 
them  which  were  with  us  went  to  the  sepulchre,  and 
found  it  even  so  as  the  women  had  said:  but  him  they 
saw  not." 

Still  he  did  not  reveal  himself  to  them  ;  he  stood 
outside  of  them  and  said,  "  0  fools  and  slow  of  heart  to 
believe  all  that  the  prophets  have  spoken :  ought  not 
Christ  to  have  suffered  these  things,  and  to  enter  into 
his  glory?"  Here  was  the  weak  point  of  the  Jewish 
faith.  "  And  beginning  at  Moses  and  all  the  prophets, 
he  expounded  unto  them  in  all  the  Scriptures  the 
things  concerning  -himself." 

There  was  nobody  there  to  write  it  down  ;  and  the 
best  commentary  that  was  ever  made  on  Scripture  was 
lost  forever.  They  did  not  remember  it,  nobody  re- 
membered it.  It  is  gone.  He  went  right  straight 
through   all  the  Scriptures,  seeking  out  passages  here 


280  THE   RESURRECTIOK 

and  there,  and  expounding  them  ;  but  no  record  was 
made  of  his  comments  upon  them.  It  is  related  that 
when  Peter  ran  to  the  Sepulchre  and  stooped  down,  he 
heheld  the  linen  clothes  laid  hy  themselves;  various 
other  items  of  small  import  are  mentioned  in  the 
account ;  but  of  this  most  precious  expository  sermon 
that  was  ever  uttered  by  human  lips  the  penman  for- 
got to  tell  us  anything,  and  it  is  lost. 

"And  they  drew  nigh  unto  the  village  whither  they 
went;  and  he  made  as  though  he  would  have  gone 
further. 

"  But  they  constrained  him,  saying,  Abide  with  us  ; 
for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent. 
And  he  went  in  to  tarry  with  them. 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  sat  at  meat  with  them, 
he  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  brake,  and  gave  to 
them.  And  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew 
him  ;  and  he  vanished  out  of  their  sight.'' 

No  more  picturesque  and  beautiful  scene  is  depicted 
in  the  life  of  Christ,  than  this  walk,  after  his  resurrec- 
tion, out  to  Emmaus.  The  innocent  unconsciousness 
of  the  disciples  pleases  us  like  a  scene  in  a  drama. 
That  trait,  too,  in  the  Lord,  which  led  him  to  keep  in 
disguise,  is  peculiarly  interesting.  It  interprets  much  of 
the  Divine  nature.  One  would  have  looked,  according 
to  the  ordinary  ideas  of  the  Divine  mind,  and  of  its 
methods,  for  an  open  and  prompt  disclosure  of  him- 
self. But  no;  it  was  pleasant  to  him,  for  some  reason, 
to  be  with  his  disciples,  to  love  them,  to  perceive 
their  embarrassments,  to  instruct  them,  without  letting 
them  know  that  he  was  there.  It  was  not  deception. 
It  was  only  a  permitting  them  to  have  their  own 
notions    of  him  undisturbed,  while   he  exercised  the 


THE  RESURRECTION.  281 

full  mission  of  love.  This  cannot  be  an  unintended 
disclosure  of  the  Diviue  nature.  We  will  not  call  it 
mystic;  and  still  less  call  it  secretive;  but  there  is  a 
love  of  non-disclosiu'e  of  personality  during  the  opera- 
tion of  merciful  grace,  which  has  illustration  in  various 
other  portions  of  the  Gospel.  The  disciples  could  not 
but  have  had  some  curiosity  to  know  who  thus,  as  a 
master,  meeting  them  by  the  way,  was  instructing 
them  so  mightily  out  of  the  Scriptures. 

One  cannot  but  see  that  the  Lord  carried  himself  to 
them  just  as  in  nature  Divine  providence  is  always 
carrying  itself.  Mercies  move  with  wide-spread  bene- 
faction ;  yet  without  interpreting  themselves.  Nature 
is  blessing  without  saying,  "  I  bless."  Messages  are 
coming  through  the  air,  and  thi'ough  Divine  provi- 
dence, from  God  ;  and  yet,  thej^  do  not  say  "  God." 
God  is  present  in  a  silent  way  always.  A  certain  hid- 
den element,  or  hiding  element,  there  is  in  the  Divine 
mind.  God's  blessings  steal  into  life  noiselessly.  They 
are  neither  self-proclaiming,  nor  even  self-announcing. 

There  is  an  exquisite  touch,  too,  in  the  scene  at  the 
gate,  where  it  is  said,  "  He  made  as  though  he  would 
have  gone  further,"  which  some  have  stumbled  at, 
supposing  that  it  was  a  ruse  or  trick,  —  a  gentle 
pretence  to  secure  entreaty.  Such  persons  cannot 
understand  the  niceties  of  the  finer  and  the  hio-her 
feelings.  Doubtless  he  would  have  gone  on,  had  they 
not  let 'Out  their  hearts  on  him,  and  constrained  him 
to  enter.  Nothing  is  so  sensitive  as  love ;  and  the 
greater,  the  more  sensitive.  It  cannot  endure  indiffer- 
ence. It  needs  to  be  wanted.  Like  a  lamp,  it  needs 
to  be  fed  from  out  of  the  oil  of  another's  heart,  or  its 
flame  burns  \j^\n. 


282  THE  RESURRECTION. 

But  when  he  had  gone  in,  and  by  his  silent 
power,  like  a  bursting  bud,  blossomed  out  before 
them  at  the  evening  meal,  then,  in  the  very  moment 
of  their  joy,  he  vanished  from  their  sight.  They 
first  knew  the  fulness  of  their  blessing  when  they 
were  losing  it. 

"He  vanished  out  of  their  sight;"  and  they  sat 
looking  at  one  another  and  wondering  ;  and  by  and 
by  one  of  them  said,  "  Did  not  our  heart  burn  within 
us  while  he  walked  with  us  by  the  way,  and  while  he 
opened  to  us  the  Scriptures  ?  " 

Then  they  went  back  to  Jerusalem  and  revealed 
their  experience  to  the  disciples  that  were  gathered 
tog-ether  there.  The  doors  were  shut  where  the  dis- 
ciples  were  assembled,  for  fear  of  the  Jews.  We  see 
them  huddled  together  in  a  secret  place,  in  the  utmost 
obscurity,  doubtless  whispering  rather  than  talking. 

"And  as  they  sat  at  meat  they  [these  disciples 
from  Emmaus]  told  what  things  were  done  in  the  way, 
and  how  he  was  known  of  them  in  breaking  of  bread. 
And  as  they  thus  spake,  Jesus  himself  stood  in  the 
midst  of  them,  and  upbraided  them  with  their  unbelief 
and  hardness  of  heart,  because  they  believed  not  them 
which  had  seen  him  after  he  was  risen ;  and  he  saitli 
unto  them.  Peace  be  unto  you.  But  they  were  terri- 
fied and  affrighted,  and  supposed  that  they  had  seen  a 
spirit.  And  he  said  unto  them,  Why  are  ye  troubled? 
and  why  do  thoughts  arise  in  your  hearts  ?  Behold 
my  hands  and  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself;  handle  me 
and  see  ;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  bones,  as  ye 
see  me  liave." 

He  comforts  them,  just  as  a  mother  comforts  an 
affrighted    child,  soothing   its  fear,  and   bj'inging   it  to 


THE  RESURRECTION.  283 

the  object  which  it  dreads,  and  making  it  look  at  it 
and  handle  it. 

"  Then  were  the  disciples  glad,  when  they  saw  the 
Lord." 

Of  course  they  were.  What  simplicity  to  put  that 
in !  and  yet,  how  beautiful  it  is,  being  put  in  ! 

"  And  while  they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  and 
wondered,  he  said  unto  them,  Have  ye  here  any 
meat  ? " 

First,  they  would  not  believe  from  fear ;  and  yet  they 
did  believe.  They  believed,  and  yet  they  could  not 
believe,  because  it  was  so  joyful. 

How  striking  is  the  simplicity  of  instruments  and 
means  that  there  is  in  this  narrative,  and  how  little 
expenditure  there  is  of  machinery !  Indeed,  there  is 
no  machinery  in  it.  It  is  desultory,  almost.  It  cer- 
tainly is  unstudied  and  unconscious. 

There  is  one  more  instance  which  is  of  interest  in 
connection  with  this  event,  —  that  which  relates  to 
Thomas.  After  this  scene  of  the  disciples  in  the  secret 
room  in  Jerusalem,  where  it  is  said  that  Thomas  was 
not  present,  other  disciples  said  unto  him,  '•  We  have 
seen  the  Lord."  No  man  can  tell  the  exultation  which 
must  have  gone  with  the  utterance  of  that  simple 
declaration,  "  We  have  seen  the  Lord." 

Now,  Thomas  was  a  man  of  reason ;  he  was  a  phil- 
osopher. Like  many  another  philosopher  in  modern 
times  he  had  no  objection  whatever  to  believing;  but 
he  wanted  proof;  and  he  wanted  the  proof  to  be  of  a 
particular  kind.  And  when  all  the  disciples  were 
aglow,  he  was  unmoved.  He  knew  them ;  he  knew 
their  nature ;  he  knew  their  veracity ;  he  could  not 
but  have  knowi  that  their  testimony  was  sufficient,  at 


284  THE  RESURRECTION. 

least,  to  create  a  joyful  presumption.  But  with  a  sort 
of  conceit  and  loftiness,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  They  may 
be  imposed  upon,  but  I  cannot  be,"  he  said  :  — 

"  Except  I  shall  see  in  his  hands  the  print  of  the 
«ails,  and  put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  tlie  nails, 
and  thrust  my  hand  into  his  side,  I  will  not  believe." 

It  is  as  if  he  had  said,  "  I  must  be  present  when  I 
am  convinced ;  and  it  must  be  according  to  my  mind 
and  my  nature,  and  not  by  sympathy,  that  the  evidence 
shall  come." 

"  And  after  eight  days  again  his  disciples  were  with- 
in, and  Thomas  with  them  :  then  came  Jesus,  the  doors 
being  shut,  and  stood  in  the  midst,  and  said.  Peace  be 
unto  you." 

How  singularly  full  of  peace  Christ  was,  both  in  the 
last  hours  preceding  his  crucifixion,  and  afterward, 
every  time  that  he  met  his  disciples  ! 

"  Then  saith  he  to  Thomas,  Reach  hither  thy  finger, 
and  behold  my  hands  ;  and  reach  hither  thy  hand,  and 
thrust  it  into  my  side;  and  be  not  faithless,  but 
believing." 

It  was  too  much  for  poor  Thomas.  He  cried  out, 
"  My  Lord  and  my  God  !  " 

Now  Thomas  did  not  mean  any  harm.  He  had  a 
heart  in  him.  He  only  had  a  touch  of  vanity.  He 
was  not  going  to  believe  because  others  did.  Jesus 
came  to  him  with  that  sweetness,  and  tenderness,  and 
beautif  ulness  ;  and  the  moment  he  saw  Jesus,  he  could 
not  resist  another  instant,  and  he  cried  out,  "  My  Lord 
and  my  God  !  " 

*' Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou  hast 
seen  me,  thou  hast  believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have 
not  seen  me,  and  yet  have  believed." 


THE  RESURRECTION.  285 

This  is  not  a  rebuke  of  the  desire  to  have  physical 
evidence  of  physical  facts,  at  all  j  nor  is  it  a  rebuke  of 
Thomas  for  desiring  to  identify  the  Saviour  past  all 
mistake ;  but  it  seems  rather  as  though  there  was  an 
inward  feeling  which  inspired  that  rebuke  of  Christ  It 
is  as  if  he  had  said,  "  After  living  so  many  years  with 
me,  after  experiencing  the  intimacy  and  the  enduring 
love  that  you  have,  after  knowing  all  that  you  have 
known,  —  was  there  nothing  in  your  hope,  was  there 
nothing  in  your  love,  was  there  nothing  in  the  proba- 
bilities of  the  history  of  my  bearing  toward  the  other 
disciples,  was  there  nothing  in  you  that  was  touched 
by  their  testimony  ?  "  It  was  a  reproach  to  the  love  of 
Thomas.  Christ  as  much  as  said,  "  If  you  had  loved  me 
Thomas,  as  I  have  loved  you,  you  wotdd  have  needed 
no  other  evidence.  The  intuition  of  love  would  have 
made  you  sure,  when  you  heard  one  and  another  and 
another  bear  testimony  that  I,  your  Lord  and  Master, 
had  risen." 

The  scene,  looked  at  in  this  light,  is  inexpressibly 
beautifid.  This  reply  of  the  Saviour  appeals  to  the 
deepest  part  of  our  nature,  rather  than  to  our  eyes  and 
hands.  Though  these  are  proper  instruments  to  be 
employed  in  ascertaining  the  truth,  yet  as  between 
friends  the  heart  ought  to  interpret. 


APPENDIX  I. 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


It  has  been  deemed  advisable  ill  this  edition  of  Tiik  Likk  ok  Jesus 
THE  Christ  not  to  reprint  the  entire  text  of  "  Bagster's  Gospel  History 
Consolidated,"  but  the  headings  only  of  the  chapters,  together  with  the 
references  to  the  text  of  the  Gospels  and  the  marginal  references  to 
passages  in  the  Old  Testament. 


APPENDIX    I. 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


Chapter  XXI.  —  A  discourse  of  Jesus,  and  several  Parables. 

Refer  to  Luke  xii.  1-59. 
"         "       xiii.  1-9. 

Chapter  XXII. — Parables:  The  Sower. — The  Tares  and  the 
Wheat.  —  The  Growing  Seed.  —  The  Grain  of  Mustard  seed. — 
The  Leaven  —  The  Hid  Treasure.  —  The  Pearl  of  Great  Price. 
—  The  Net  and  the  Fishes. 

Eefer  to  Matthew  xiii.  1-53. 
"      Mark  iv.  1-34. 
"      Luke  viii.  iv.  18. 
"      Psalm  xxxviii.  2. 

Chapter  XXIII. — Jesus'  observations  to  those  who  wished  to 
follow  Him. — The  Stilling  of  the  Tempest. — The  Healing  of 
the  Demoniac  at  Gadara. 

Refer  to  Matthew  viii.  18-34. 
ix.  1. 
"       Mark  iv.  35-41. 
"  "  V.  1-20.- 

"      Luke  viii.  22-39. 

VOL.  II. — 19 


290  TIIK   GOSPELS   CONSOI.inAJKl). 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  Levi's  Feast.  — As  to  Fasting.  — The  Raising 
of  Jairus's  Daughter.  —  The  Healing  of  the  Woniau  with  an 
Issue  of  Blood ;  and  other  Miracles. 

Kcfcr  to  ]\[attlic\v  ix.  10-31. 
"     ]\[ark  ii.  15-22. 

"     V.  21-13. 
"    Luke  V.  29-39. 

"     viii.  37,  10-50. 

Chapter  XXV. — The  Sending  Forth  of  the  Twelve  Disciples. 
—  The  Death  of  John  the  Baptist. 

Kcfcr  to  Matthew  ix.  35-38. 
•'  "        X.  1,  5-12. 

xi.  1. 
"  "         xiii.  51-5S. 

«  "         xiv.  1,  2,  G-12. 

"     Mark  vi.  1-13. 
"     vi.  21-29. 
"     vi.  11-16. 
•'    Luke  ix.  1-9. 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  The  Eeturn  of  the  Twelve.  — The  Feeding  of 
the  Five  Thousand.  —  Jesus  Walking  on  the  Water. 

llet'cr  to  ^lattliew  xiv.  13-36. 
"     Mark  vi.  30-56. 
"     Luke  IX.  10-17. 
"     Jolui  vi.  1-21. 

Chapter  XXVIL  — The  Bread  of  Life.  —  Peter's  Profession  of 
Faith. 

Refer  to  John  vi.  22-71. 
"      vii.  1. 
"      Isaiah  liv.  13. 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  Jesus  on  the  Traditions  of  the  Elders. 

Mdvx  to  ^[attliew  xv.  1-20. 
Mark  vii.  1-23. 
Isaiali  xxix.  13. 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  The  Syrophenician  Woman.  —  Many  Mira- 
cles. —  The  Feeding  of  the  Four  Thousand. 

liefer  to  .^hltthew  xv.  21-39. 
"       Mark  vii.  21-37. 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED.  291 

Chapter  XXX.  —  The  Sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonah.  —  The  Leaven 
of  the  Pharisees.  —  The  Disciples'  Second  Profession  of  Faith. 
—  The  Sufferings  of  Jesus  and  of  his  Followers  Foretold. 

liefer  to  Matthew  xv.  39. 

xvi.  1-28. 
"       Mark  viii.  10-38. 
"      ix.  1. 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  The  Transfiguration.  —  The  Healing  of  a 
Demoniac. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xvii.  1-21. 
"       Mark  ix.  2-29. 
"       Luke  ix.  28-43. 

Chapter  XXXII.  —  The  Sufferings  of  Jesus  again  Foretold.  — 
The  jNIiraculous  Tribute  Money.  —  Contention  of  the  Disciples 
who  should  be  greatest,  and  Jesus'  Exhortation  thereon. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xvii.  22-27. 
"        xviii.  1-35. 
"      Mark  ix.  30-50. 
"      Luke  ix.  43-50. 

Chapter  XXXIII.  —  Departure  of  Jesus  from  Galilee.  —  Sa- 
maria. —  The  Seventy  Disciples.  —  Hetiling  of  Ten  Lepers. 

Refer  to  John  vii.  2. 
"      Matthew  xix.  1. 
"      Mark  x.  1. 
"     Luke  ix.  51-62. 
"     X.  1-16. 
"     xvii.  11-19. 
"      Johu  vii.  6-10. 

Chapter  XXXIV.  —  Teaching  of  Jesus  in  the  Temple.  —  Officers 
sent  by  the  Pharisees  to  take  Him. 

Refer  to  John  vii.  11-53. 
"  "     viii.  1. 

Chapter  XXXV.  —  The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery.  —  Further 
Discussions  in  the  Temple.  —  The  Jews  attempt  to  Stone 
Jesus. 

Refer  to  John  viii.  2-59. 


292  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 

Chapter  XXXVI.  —  The  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan.  —  INFar- 
tha  and  Mary. — The  Lord's  Prayer. — The  lieturn  of  the 
Seventy. 

Exifer  to  Luke  x.  25-42, 
"  X.  17-24. 
"      xi.  1-13. 

Chapter  XXXVII.  —  The  Healing  of  a  Man  born  Blind,  and 
consequent  Controversy  amongst  the  Jews.  —  The  departure 
of  Jesus  beyond  Jordan. 

Refer  to  John  ix.  1-41. 
"     X.  1-42. 

Chapter  XXXVIII.  —  The  Raising  of  Lazarus.  —  Conspiracy  of 

the  Chief   Priests   and  Pharisees.  —  Retirement   of   Jesus  to 

Ephraim. 

Refer  to  Jolin  xi.  1-54. 

Chapter  XXXIX.  —  Miracles  on  the  Sabbath  Day.  —  Jesus  on 
Self-exaltation.  —  The  Parable  of  the  Great  Supper. 

Refer  to  Mattliew  xix.  1,  2. 
"       Mark  x.  L 
"      Luke  xiii.  10-35. 
"         "     xiv.  1-24. 

Chapter  XL.  —  Parables  :  The  Builder  of  the  Tower.  —  The 
King  Avith  Ten  Thousand.  —  The  Lost  Sheep.  —  The  Lost 
Piece  of  Money.  —  The  Prodigal  Sou.  —  The  Unjust  Steward. 
—  The  Rich  Mau  and  Lazarus. 

Refer  to  Luke  xiv.  25-35. 
"     XV.  1-32. 
"    xvi.  1-31. 
"    xvii.  1-10. 

Chapter  XLI. — The  Coming  of  the  Kingdom  of  God.  — Para- 
bles. —  The  Importunate  Widow.  —  The  Pliarisee  and  the  Pub- 
lican. —  Divorce.  —  Jesus  and  Little  Children. 

Refer  to  Luke  xvii.  20-37- 
"     xviii.  1-17. 
«       Matthew  xix.  3-15. 
«       Mark  x.  2-16. 


THE   GOSPELS   CONSOLIDATED. 


293 


Chapter  XLII.  —  The  Rich  Young  Euler.  —  Parable  of  the  La- 
borers ill  the  Vineyard. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xix.  lG-30. 
XX.  1-16. 
"      Mark  x.  17-31. 
"      Luke  xviii.  18-30. 

Chapter  XLITI.  —  The  Sufferings  of  Jesus  again  Foretold.— 
The  Ambition  of  James  and  John.  — Jericho.  — The  Two  Blind 
Men.  — Zaccheus.  —The  Parable  of  the  Ten  Pounds. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xx.  lli-M. 
"      Mark  x.  32-.52. 
"      Luke  xviii.  31-13. 
"      xix.  1-28. 

Chapter  XLIV.  —  Return  of  Jesus  to  Bethany,  and  His  Public 
Entry  into  Jerusalem. 

Refer  to  John  xi.  55-57. 

"    xil.  13,  lC-19. 
"      Matthew  xxi.  1-11,  14-17. 
"      Mark  xi.  1-11. 
"      Luke  xix.  29-44. 
"      Zechariali  ix.  9. 
"      Psalm  viii.  2. 

Chapter  XLV.  —  The  Withered  Pig-Tree.  —  The  Cleansing  of 
the  Temple.  —  Parables  of  the  Two  Sons,  —  the  Wicked 
Husbandmen.  —The  Marriage  of  the  King's  Son. 


Refer 


to  Matthew  xxi.  12,  13,  18-46. 
"        xxii.  1-14. 
Mark  xi.  12-33. 
"      xii.  1-12. 
Luke  xix.  45-48. 
"      xxi.  37,  38. 
"      XX.  1-19. 


Chapter  XLVI.  —  Questions  put  to  Jesus  in  the  Temple. 


Refer  to  Matthew  xxii.  15-46. 
'♦        Mark  xii.  13-37- 
Luke  XX.  20-44. 
*'         Psalm  ex.  1. 


294  THE   GOSPELS   CONSOfJPATEn. 

Chapter  XL VII.  —  Denunciation  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxiii.  1-39. 
Mark  xii.  38-40. 
Luke  XX.  45-'17- 

Chapter  XLVIIL  — The  Widow's  Mite.  — The  Unbelief  of  the 

Jews. 

Refer  to  Mark  xii.  41-44. 
"        Luke  xxi.  1-4. 

John  xii.  20-50. 
"         Isaiali  vi.  10. 

Chapter  XLTX.  —  Prophecies:  Destruction  of  the  Temple. — 
Persecution  of  Christ's  Disciples.  —  The  Signs  preceding  the 
Destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  End  of  the  Jewish  Dispen- 
sation. —  Parables  :  The  Ten  Virgins.  —  The  Five  Talents.  — 
The  Day  of  Judgment. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxiv.  1-51. 
«         XXV.  1-46. 
Mark  xiii.  1-37. 
"        Luke  xxi.  5-36. 

Chapter  L.  —  Conspii-acy  of  the  Rulers  against  Jesus.  —  Judas 
Iscariot.  —  The  Supper  at  Bethany. 

Refer  to  ]\Iatthew  xxvi.  1-16. 
Mark  xiv.  1-11. 
"         Luke  xxii.  1-6. 
John  xii.  2-8. 

Chapter  LI.  ■ — Preparation  for  the  Passover.  —  The  Washing  of 
the  Disciples'  Feet.  —  Phe  Traitor  pointed  out. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvi.  17-25. 
Mark  xiv.  12-21. 
Luke  xxii.  7-18,  24-30,  21-23 
John  xiii.  1-30. 
Psalm  xii.  9. 

Chapter  LIT.  —  Institution  of  the  Lord's  Sapper.  —  Jesus'  Last 
Discourse  and  Prayer  with  his  Disciples. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvi.  31-35,  26-29. 
"      Mark  xiv.  27-31,  22-25. 


THE    aOSPELS    CONiiOLIDATED.  295 

Refer  to  Luke  xxii.  31-38,  19,  20. 
"      John  xiii.  31-38. 

"  xiv.  1-31. 
«  "  XV.  1-27. 
"        "     xvi.  1-33. 

"     xvii.  l-2f). 
"       Zecliariali  xiii.  7. 
"      1  Cor.  xi.  24. 
"       Psalm  Ixix.  4. 

Chapter  LIII.  —  Gethsemane, — Jesus  Betrayed  by  Judas  and 
taken  Prisoner. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvi.  30,  36-53. 
Mark  xiv.  26,  32-52. 
"  Luke  xxii.  39-53. 

"  John  xviii.  1,  9-12. 

Chapter  LIV.  —  Trial  of  Jesus  by  Caiaphas  and  the  Council.  — 
Peter's  Denial. 

Refer  to  Mattliew  xxvi.  57-68,  74,  75. 
Mark  xiv,  53-72. 
"         Luke  xxii.  54-71. 
John  xviii.  13-27. 

Chapter  LV.  —  Jesus  before  Pilot.  —  Jesus  Mocked,  Scourged, 
and  Condemned  to  Death.  —  Suicide  of  Judas  Iscariot. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvii.  1,  2,  11-30,  3-10. 
Mark  xv.  1-19. 
"       Luke  xxiii.  1-25. 
Jolin  xviii.  28-40. 

"    xix.  1-16. 
Acts  i.  18. 

Chapter  LVI.  —  The  Crucifixion  and  Burial. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvii.  31-61. 

Mark  xv.  20-47. 

Luke  xxiii.  26-34,  38,  35-37,  39-5G. 
"       John  xix.  16-42. 
"       Psahn  xxii.  18. 
"  "      xxxiv.  20. 

"       Zechariah  xii.  10. 


296  THE    GOSPELS   CONSOI.I DATED. 

Chapter  LVII.  —  The  Resurrection. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxvii.  62-00. 
"  "  xxviii.  1-15. 

Mark  xvi.  1-12. 
"  Luke  xxiv.  1-12. 

John  XX.  1-18. 

Chapter  LVIII.  —  The  Journey  to  Emmaus.  —  Appearances  of 
Jesus  to  the  Apostles  at  Jerusalem. 

Refer  to  Mark  xvi.  12-18. 
Luke  xxiv.  1:5-48. 
John  XX.  19-29. 
1  Cor.  XV.  5. 

Chapter  LIX.  —  Jesus  in  Galilee  after  the  Resurrection. 

Refer  to  Matthew  xxviii.  16-20. 
Joliu  xxi.  1-24. 
1  Cor.  XV.  6. 

Chapter  LX.  —  The  Ascension. 

Refer  to  Mark  xvi.  19. 

Luke  xxiv.  49-53. 
1  Cor.  XV.  7. 
"  Matthew  xxviii.  20. 

Acts  i.  3-8. 
John  XX.  30,  31. 

"     xxi.  25. 
Aets  i.  9-12. 


APPENDIX  11. 


DESCEIPTION   OF   THE   ENGRAVINGS. 


It  has  been  thought  best  to  print  the  entii'e  Appendix  in  tliis  as  well  as 
the  imperial  edition,  althougli  many  of  the  pictures  are  to  be  found  in 
the  imperial  edition  only.  The  original  Part  I.,  octavo  edition,  publislied 
in  1872,  contained  only  six  engravings,  including  maps.  Several  I'uU- 
page  pictures  have  been  added,  and  Part  I.  is  desigiiatt'd  Vol.  J.  in  this 
edition.  Vol.  II.,  octavo  edition,  is  also  enriched  by  numerous  full-page 
illustrations.  The  arrangenjent  of  the  text  and  size  of  the  page  in  the 
octavo  edition  prevented  the  use  of  the  many  smaller  wood-cuts  with 
which  the  imperial  edition  is  embelli.shed.  The  references  to  editions 
and  volumes  at  the  end  of  each  article  show  where  the  pictures  are  to 
be  found. 

The  author  of  this  Appendix  is  Mr.  A.  L.  Rawson,  who  made  most  of  the 
original  sketches  from  which  this  work  has  been  embelliphed,  and  who  is  one 
of  the  best  authorities  on  all  subjects  connected  with  the  topography  of  the 
Holy  Land. 


07131  ructed  i»  ALJLn>un 


APPENDIX    II. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

The  author  of  this  "  Life  of  Jesus  the  Christ "  selected  the 
sketches  from  the  portfolio  of  the  designer,  aud  they  were  en- 
graved by  two  of  the  most  eminent  engravers  on  wood  in  the 
world;  William  J.  and  Henry  D.  Linton,  after  drawings  on  wood 
by  the  artistic  pencil  of  Harry  Fenn,  —  except  a  few  that  were 
drawn  by  the  designer. 

These  pictures  are  not  from  photographs,  but  from  water-color 
sketches  made  at  the  places  represented  by  the  designer  on  sev- 
eral of  his  visits  to  Palestine.  They  are  superior  to  photographs, 
■for  they  contain  the  results  of  thought  and  acquaintance  with  the 
various  places,  and  in  some  a  union  or  combination  of  several 
views  in  one,  as  in  the  "Jericho." 

Traditions  and  legends  hang  like  a  dense  fog  about  the  so-called 
**  holy  places  "  in  Palestine,  and  make  it  impossible  for  an  artist 
to  represent  the  true  site  of  any  one  of  them  beyond  question. 
The  plan  in  this  series  of  pictures  was  to  give  where  possible  such 
a  view  as  would  include  more  than  one  site  where  there  were  sev- 
eral offered,  as  will  be  seen  at  once  in  the  "Crucifixion"  where 
a  view  of  Jerusalem  is  presented  that  gives  all  the  sites  offered 
as  the  locality  referred  to  in  the  account  as  given  in  the  Gos- 
pels, including  the  site  proposed  just  outside  the  St.  Stephen 
Gate,  near  the  Dome  of  the  Eock,  the  supposed  site  of  Herod's 
Temple,  the  one  under  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  which 
is  said  to  cover  the  place  of  crucifixion  and  the  tomb,  aud  the 
knoll  outside  of  and  near  the  Damascus  Gate.  Other  places  are 
referred  to  in  this  description  at  some  length,  as  in  the  case  of 


300  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  EN G RAVINGS. 

"  Bethlehem,"  in  which  the  modern  site  of  this  ancient  city  as 
located  by  the  monks  is  considered.  In  no  case  has  any  idea 
been  advocated  that  was  not  acceptable  to  Mr.  Beecher,  wlio  in 
many  interviews  with  the  artist  heartily  coincided  witli  his  views 
as  to  the  desirableness  of  rearranging  the  geograpliy  of  the  holy 
])laces. 

The  only  pictures  not  selected  from  original  sketches  are  the 
"  Map  of  the  Vicinity  of  Jerusalem,"  wliich  is  compiled  from  the 
map  of  the  English  Palestine  Survey,  completed  only  a  few  years 
since ;  and  the  pictures  of  the  "  Sea  of  Galilee "  and  of  the 
*'  Swamp  of  Papyrus  Reeds,"  which  Avere  supplied  by  Mr.  Fenn 
from  photographs. 

In  no  case  has  the  truth  of  the  scene  been  sacrificed  for  mere 
pictorial  effect.  AVhere  pictures  have  been  compiled  from  sev- 
eral sketches,  as  in  the  instance  of  the  "  Jericho,"  the  artist,  who 
was  limited  to  one  view  in  that  locality,  strove  to  give  as  much 
as  possible  of  the  important  points  of  the  scenery. 

The  Overture  of  Angels. 

Religious  ideas  and  artistic  fancies  are  skilfully  grouped  in 
this  composition  by  Mr.  Fenn.  The  Jewish  high-priest  with 
incense  before  the  high  altar,  the  virgin  mother  and  infant  Jesus, 
adoring  angels,  the  incense  of  song  and  harmony  of  harps,  the 
suggested  movements  in  rhythm,  engage  the  mind  in  contempla- 
tion of  the  great  theme,  the  elevation  of  the  soul.  Among  the 
shadows  below,  the  annunciation  to  Mary,  the  appearance  to  the 
shepherds,  the  babe  in  the  manger,  and  the  flight  are  suggested 
in  effective  sketches.  Time  was  when  these  dreams  or  fancies 
were  in  religious  life  solid  and  glorious  realities.  They  are  now 
valued  chiefly  as  suggestions  of  spiritual  hopes  and  aspirations. 
(8vo  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Angelic  Appearance  to  Zaeharias,  Sigh-priest.     After  design 
by  T.  0.  Paine. 

The  high-priest  represented  the  people  Israel,  and  the  breast- 
plate also  represented  the  people  as  distributed  in  the  twelve 
tribes  by  its  twelve  stones,  which  were  precious  stones.  Each 
one  was  set  in  a  stud,  with  a  button  at  its  back  for  convenience 
in  placing  them  in  the  breastplate,  where  twelve  button-holes 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  301 

were  prepared  for  them.*  In  the  solemn  appearance  before 
Jehovah  at  the  annual  convocation  of  the  people  on  the  Day  of 
Atonement,  the  ceremony  of  inserting  the  stones  in  the  breast- 
plate was  very  impressive.  We  can  easily  suppose  that  after  the 
disappearance  of  the  Ten  Tribes,  the  prayers  for  their  return 
must  have  been  very  earnest. 

The  breastplate  with  its  stones  was  the  badge  of  the  office  of 
high-priest  (Ex.  xxviii.  30),  as  directed  from  Sinai,  —  "  Aaron  shall 
bear  the  judgment  of  the  children  of  Israel  upon  his  heart  before 
the  Lord  continually ; "  and  also  as  teacher,  as  Isaiah  wrote 
(liv.  13),  —  "  All  thy  children  shall  be  taught  of  the  Lord."  The 
continuance  and  stability  of  the  house  of  Israel  was  promised  in 
these  words  (Isa.  liv.  11,  12)  :  ''I  will  lay  thy  stones  with  fair 
colors,  and  lay  thy  foundations  with  sapphires,  and  I  will  make 
thy  windows  of  agates,  and  thy  gates  of  carbuncles,  and  all  thy 
borders  of  pleasant  stones." 

The  names  of  the  stones  as  given  in  the  Talmud  are,  begin- 
ning at  the  top  and  reading  across  to  the  left :  sardonyx,  topaz, 
emerald ;  carbuncle,  jasper,  sapphire ;  ligure,  amethyst,  agate ; 
chrysolite,  onyx,  and  beryl.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Mary^s  Visit  to  Elizabeth.,  Motlier  of  John  the  Baptist  (Luke 

i.  39).       JUTTAH. 

The  quaint  traveller,  Sandys,  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago 
described  his  visit  to  the  region  southwest  of  Jerusalem,  and 
after  seeing  the  "  Ethiopian  fountain,"  where  it  is  said  the  eunuch 
was  baptized,  "  about  a  mile  and  a  halfe  further,  wee  came  to  the 
cave  where  lohn  the  Baptist  is  said  to  have  lived  from  the  age 
of  seven  until  such  time  as  he  went  unto  the  wilderness  by  lor- 
dan."  The  cave  was  •'*  hewue  out  of  the  precipitating  rocke  ;  so  as 
difficultly  to  be  ascended  or  descended  to :  entred  at  the  East 
corner,  and  receiving  light  from  a  window  in  the  side.  At  the 
upper  end  there  is  a  bench  of  the  selfsame  rocke,  whereon  (as 
they  say)  he  accustomed  to  sleepe ;  of  which  whoso  breakes  a 
piece  off,  stands  excommunicate." 

He  also  described  a  monastery,  and  a  spring  of  water  which 
gushed  out  of  the  "  steepe  of  a  mountame,"  disappeared  under 
the  rock,  "  and  againe  bursteth  forth  beneath  the  mouth  of  the 
Cave." 


302  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ES (I RAVINGS. 

The  Franciscan  monks  say  the  phice  was  at  Ain  Karim,  four 
miles  southwest  of  Jerusalem,  in  which  they  show  in  their  fine 
convent  the  precise  spot  where  John  the  Baptist  was  born,  under 
the  chapel,  wliich  is  richly  and  profusely  decorated.  They  also 
show  his  birthplace  in  a  grotto,  which  is  probably  the  one  de- 
scribed by  Sandys.  It  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  convent, 
and  it  is  not  explained  how  it  happened  there  were  two  birth- 
places for  the  Forerunner. 

In  the  mountains,  a  mile  or  more  from  Ain  Karim,  the  monies 
show  a  house,  called  "  Saint  John  in  the  jNIountains,"  where  they 
say  the  Forerunner  lived,  before  going  to  the  Jordan. 

Ten  miles  southwest  of  Jerusalem,  on  the  Hebron  road,  the 
monks  have  another  house,  where  the  parents  of  John  lived,  which 
they  call  "  Zaccharias,"  and  the  Arabs  "  Bayt  Skaria." 

South  of  Hebron  twenty-four  miles  (as  the  bird  flies)  from 
Jerusalem,  is  a  large  Mohammedan  village,  which  is  called  Yuttah  ; 
and  many  believe  it  is  on  the  site  of  the  Juttah  mentioned  in  the 
list  of  Joshua  xxi.  16.  The  modern  Arabs  have  received  and  per- 
petuated the  names  of  places  as  given  them  by  their  ancestors, 
and  this  is  one  of  such  survivals.  That  Juttah  and  the  Juda, 
or  city  of  Juda,  referred  to  in  Luke  are  one,  is  accepted  by  many 
as  certain. 

This  Juttah  was  assigned  to  the  priests ;  and  the  "  Imperial 
Bible  Dictionary  "  (Fairbairn)  suggests  that  it  was  the  Tah,  Tah-n, 
and  Tah-n-nu  of  the  Egyptian  tablets,  where  the  Anakim  had  a 
fort  near  Arba,  —  which,  if  that  was  Hebron,  was  only  five  miles 
away.     In  the  Septuagint  the  place  is  called  Itan  and  Tanu. 

The  Talmudic  writers  locate  Yata  or  Yuta  south  of  Hebron. 

The  only  question  then  is.  Did  the  writer  in  Luke  refer  by  the 
phrase  "a  city  in  Juda"  to  what  is  called  in  Joshua  Juttah 
and  in  Second  Kings  (xxi.  19)  Jotbah,  where  the  mother  of  King 
Amon  lived  ? 

The  well-known  custom  of  the  monks,  who  locate  the  Scriptural 
places  to  suit  their  convenience,  very  properly  admits  of  the  most 
careful  examination,  if  not  of  suspicion,  in  nearly  every  so-called 
holy  place  of  the  present  day. 

Our  engraving  represents  the  valley  west  of  the  modern  village 
looking  north  towards  Hebron.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  303 

Angelic  Appearance  to  Joseph.     Nazareth. 

This  view  is  from  the  northwest,  witli  the  hights  this  side 
and  beyond  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon,  and  Mount  Tabor  beyond. 
A  glimpse  of  a  part  of  the  plain  is  given  in  the  dark  stripe 
towards  the  right  in  the  distance.  The  place  is  not  mentioned  in 
the  Old  Testament,  or  in  Josephus,  or  in  any  other  ancient 
writing  outside  of  the  New  Testament ;  and  some  traditions  refer 
to  the  site  of  ancient  Sepphoris  as  the  place  where  the  writer 
intended  to  locate  the  parents  of  Jesus  during  his  childhood. 

Nazareth  is  fifty-live  miles,  air  line,  nearly  north  from  Jerusa- 
lem, and  is  a  little  city  of  about  five  thousand  people,  of  many 
races  and  as  many  religious  beliefs.  The  Mohammedans  have 
two  mosques,  the  Greek  Christians  a  church,  the  Latins  (Francis- 
cans) a  large  convent  (said  to  be  on  the  site  of  the  house  of 
Joseph  and  Mary),  the  Maronites  a  chapel,  and  the  Protestant 
Mission  a  small  house.  This  place  first  became  noted  during  the 
Crusades,  when  a  bishop  resided  there.  The  houses  are  nearly 
all  of  stone,  none  are  very  ancient,  and  but  few  are  well  built  or 
spacious. 

The  church  has  many  traditionary  treasures  in  the  keeping  of 
the  monks,  who  show  them  to  visitors,  —  such  as  the  tvorksho])  of 
Joseph  the  carpenter,  the  kitchen  of  Mary,  the  dining-tahle  of  the 
Lord  and  his  apostles,  the  synagogue  in  which  Jesus  read  the 
book  Isaiah,  a  very  moderate  ^jr«tv}j/ce  down  which  the  Nazarenes 
proposed  to  throw  their  fellow-citizen  headlong  (Luke  iv.  29},  and 
the  spot  where  the  angel  appeared,  to  Mary  in  the  Chapel  of  the 
Annunciation.  Another  precipice  is  shown  nearer  the  Plain  of 
Esdraelon,  a  mile  or  two  from  the  village.  The  monks  have  not 
invented,  and  the  people  have  not  preserved,  any  traditions  of 
the  childhood  of  Jesus,  besides  that  recorded  in  the  Gospels. 
The  apocryphal  Gospels  are  replete  with  anecdotes  and  accounts 
of  the  child-life  of  Jesus,  but  very  little  respect  is  paid  them. 
The  First  and  Second  Gospels  of  the  Infancy,  and  the  Gospel 
according  to  Nicodkmus,  are  fine  specimens  of  invention,  and 
evidence  of  a  desire  to  bridge  over  a  gap  in  the  narrative  in  the 
canonical  writings.  This  desire  at  Nazareth  has  invested  a  foun- 
tain near  the  village  with  associations  concerning  Jesus  and  his 
mother ;  and  a  chapel  has  been  built  over  it,  called  the  Church  of 
the  Annunciation.     The  chapel  of  the  Annunciation  was  under- 


304  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

ground  in  the  sixteenth  century,  as  described  by  Belon  (Obs. 
Paris,  1588,  p.  327). 

Sandys  (1632)  mentions  "the  remains  of  a  goodly  Temple 
(once  the  chaire  of  an  Archbishop)  erected  over  the  house  of  the 
blessed  Virgin  -.  whereof  there  is  yet  one  roome  to  be  scene, 
partly  hewne  out  of  the  living  rocke ;  amongst  those  Christians 
of  great  veneration.  But  the  Komanists  relate,  that  the  roome 
wherein  she  was  borne,  was  borne  by  the  Angels  (at  such  time  as 
the  Country  was  universally  possessed  by  the  inlidels)  over  seas 
and  shores  to  a  City  of  Illyria.  But  when  those  people  grew 
niggardly  in  their  offerings,  it  was  rapt  from  thence,  and  set  in 
the  woods  of  Picenum ;  within  the  possessions  of  a  Lady  named 
Laurettaj;  frequented  by  infinite  number  of  Pilgrims:  When 
many  miscarrying  by  the  ambushment  of  theeves,  who  lurked  in 
the  woods  adioyning,  the  blessed  Virgin  commanded  the  Angels 
to  remove  it  unto  a  certain  mountaine  belonging  unto  two  breth- 
ren, where  she  got  much  riches  and  sumptuous  apparell,  by  the 
benevolence  of  her  Votaries,  and  her  charitable  miracles.  By 
which  means  the  two  brethren  grew  also  rich ;  and  withal  dis- 
sentious  about  the  division  of  their  purchases.  Whereupon 
it  was  once  more  transported  by  those  winged  porters,  and  set 
in  the  place  where  as  now  it  standeth:  near  to  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  and  not  far  from  Ancona,  yet  retaining  the  name  Lauretta 
(Loretto)." 

This  is  only  one  among  many  others  in  which  it  is  said  there 
is  more  than  one  sacred  locality  belonging  to  some  person  or 
event  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures. 

However  absurd  the  legends  or  traditions,  the  student  is  com- 
pelled to  study  them  for  clews  to  the  truth  hidden  somewhere  in 
their  meshes. 

The  view  from  the  Wely  of  Neby  Ismail  (a  Mohammedan 
saint),  on  the  hight  northwest  of  the  village,  on  which  the 
reader  is  supposed  to  stand  as  he  faces  the  picture,  is  very  ex- 
tensive and  fine,  including  Mount  Tabor  to  the  left,  Esdraelon, 
Little  Hermon  (Jeliel  Duhy),  mountains  of  Samaria,  Mount  Car- 
mel  and  the  sea,  the  coast  near  Akka  (Acre), —  out  of  the  picture, 
to  the  right,  —  El  Buttauf,  the  ancient  plain  of  Zebulon,  Sefurieh, 
the  ancient  Sepphoris  or  Diocsesarea,  Jebel  Kaukab,  Mount  Hat- 
tin,  the  bights  of  Safed,  and  above  and  beyond  to  the  north 
Mount  Hermon,  Jebel  esh  Shayk,  with  his  snowy   crown  lifted 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  305 

10,000  feet  into  the  blue  ether.  Eastward  the  Sea  of  Galilee  and 
the  Jordan  are  hidden  behind  hills;  but  the  mountains  of  Bashan 
(the  Hauran)  rise  high  against  the  horizon  in  many  volcanic 
peaks,  but  without  any  one  very  much  higher  than  another.  In 
soil  and  food  productions,  and  flowers,  the  region  is  highly 
favored.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

The  Star  of  BethleJie)ii  (Ornithogalum  umbellatum). 

The  star  referred  to  in  the  text  (Matt.  ii.  2;  Num.  xxiv.  17; 
Is.  Ix.  3)  was  astronomical ;  but  our  illustration  is  botanical,  and 
refers  more  correctly  to  2  Kings  vi.  25.  But  since  the  form  of 
the  flower  is  rayed  like  a  star,  and  has  the  common  name  Star 
of  Bethlehem,  and  grows  abundantly  all  over  Palestine,  there 
will,  it  is  probable,  be  no  objection  to  its  appearance  here.  It 
belongs  to  the  lilies,  and  has  a  bulbous  root,  which  makes  an 
agreeable  salad,  or  if  boiled  or  roasted  has  the  taste  of  chestnuts. 
It  is  baked  or  boiled,  dried  and  ground  to  powder,  when  it  is 
mixed  with  meal  of  barley  or  of  other  grain  for  bread.  An 
emotional  and  sentimental  writer  suggests  a  parallel  between 
"  the  famine  when  the  Ornithogalum  was  eaten  in  Samaria,  with 
the  spiritual  famine  at  the  advent  of  the  Saviour." 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  clear  up  the  mystery  about 
the  Star  in  the  East,  which  went  before  the  Wise  Men  and  stood 
over  the  place  of  the  nativity  of  Jesus.  It  is  said  to  have  been  a 
special  and  supernatural  appearance,  for  the  guidance  of  those 
"  magi  of  the  Zend  religion  who  were  expecting  a  divine  savior 
in  the  person  of  the  Jewish  infant." 

It  is  also  supposed  (by  Kepler,  Ideler,  and  others)  to  have  been 
a  conjunction  of  the  planets  Jupiter  and  Saturn ;  and  if  so,  it  is 
a  means  of  determining  the  date  of  the  nativity,  from  the  known 
recurrence  of  such  phenomena.  In  May,  b.  c.  7,  such  a  conjunc- 
tion did  occur,  and  it  was  likely  to  attract  the  astrologers  as  if 
to  an  unusually  significant  appearance.  The  two  planets  were 
supposed  to  have  formed  one  bright  star  in  appearance,  which  to 
an  ordinary  eye  could  not  have  been  the  case ;  therefore  others 
presume  that  the  Wise  Men  were  a  little  blind,  and  saw  as  one 
what  others  saw  as  two  stars.  The  fact  is,  there  were  three  con- 
junctions in  that  year,  and  one  occurred  in  December.  The  Wise 
Men  were  said  to  have  started  in  Persia  on  their  westward  iour- 
vo;..  II.  — 20 


306  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

ney,  and  must  have  had  three  ''  stars "  for  guidance,  if  the  con- 
junction theory  is  assumed. 

The  December  "star"  could  not  have  been  a  perfect  guide;  for 
the  road  from  Jerusalem  to  Bethlehem  south  winds  so  as  to  bring 
the  planets  south  of  or  behind  the  travelers  just  before  they 
would  have  arrived  at  the  village.  A  star  or  two  planets  in 
conjunction  near  the  zenith  would  be  far  too  high  in  the  sky  to 
stand  over  any  one  house  in  a  village.  Kepler  and  Ideler,  there- 
fore, have  only  suggested  an  impossible  phantasm. 

The  final  supposition  is  that  the  star  was  visible  to  the  magi 
alone.  The  song  of  the  angels  was  addressed  to  and  heard  by 
many,  the  multitude  of  those  in  Bethlehem  ;  and  there  is  no  ap- 
parent reason  why  the  "star"  should  have  been  concealed  from 
them  and  seen  only  by  strangers  from  afar.    (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Birth  of  Jesus.     Bethlehem. 

View  of  the  so-called  Convent  of  the  Nativity,  which  is  said  to 
have  been  built  over  the  Grotto  of  the  Nativity.  Nowhere  in 
the  Gospels  is  there  a  reference  to  a  grotto  or  cave  as  the  place 
in  which  Jesus  was  born.  Matthew  (ii.  11)  says  "house";  Mark 
does  not  refer  to  the  place  of  birth;  Luke  (ii.  7)  says  '*in  a 
manger,  because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn " ;  and 
John  begins  his  narrative  at  the  baptism  by  the  Forerunner.  So 
the  assumption  that  the  birth  was  in  a  cave  or  grotto  is  a  venture 
to  popularize  the  legend  and  locate  the  event  in  the  present  place. 

The  view  is  from  the  northeast  of  the  great  convent-fort,  and 
shows  a  part  only  of  the  village  behind  it  to  the  west,  on  the 
crest  of  a  hill,  on  which  the  convent  stands  at  its  eastern 
terminus. 

It  should  be  said  that  the  cave  tradition  is  traced  back  to  the 
second  century,  according  to  Justin  Martyr,  who  mentions  the 
grotto  as  the  birthplace  of  the  Saviour  (Justin  Martyr,  Dial,  cum 
Tryph.  78,  p.  175) ;  Origen  and  Eusebius  also  speak  of  the  cave ; 
and  the  Empress  Helena,  mother  of  Constantine,  is  credited  with 
the  first  building  over  it.  All  this  only  exhibits  the  tendency  of 
the  Oriental  mind  to  locate  any  and  every  event,  and  in  the  case 
of  the  monks  to  place  them  where  they  will  give  least  inconven- 
ience to  pilgrims  and  travelers  in  visiting  them.  The  fact  that 
the  noted  scholar  Jerome  lived  and  did  his  work  of  translating 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  EyailAVINGS.  '307 

the  Greek  into  the  Latin  Scriptures  (Vulgate)  at  this  Bethlehem 
does  not  establish  the  site  as  the  one  referred  to  in  the  Gospels 
and  the  Old  Testament ;  for  his  life  was  between  340  and  420  a.  d., 
long  after  the  newly  formed  traditions  had  become  fixed  and 
nearly  unchangeable,  although  we  know  now  that  others  —  as,  for 
instance,  those  relating  to  Calvary  and  the  Holy  Sepulchre  — 
have  been  disputed  and  located  in  many  places. 

The  Crusaders  naturally  adopted  the  traditions  relating  to  the 
nativity  as  located  at  Bethlehem  when  they  took  the  place, 
A.  D.  1110,  and  when  King  Baldwin  I.  established  an  episcopal  see 
there,  which  was  confirmed  by  Pope  Pascal  II.;  yet  these  things 
are  not  proof  of  its  genuineness  as  the  site  in  the  mind  of  the 
writers  in  the  Gospels  and  in  the  Old  Testament.  Gifts  of  pious 
pilgrims  and  princes  have  enlarged  and  enriched  the  grotto,  until 
it  is  now  large  and  gorgeously  decorated  and  sumptuously  fur- 
nished with  a  superabundance  of  lamps  and  furniture  of  all  sorts, 
fit  and  unfit  for  such  a  shrine.  Near  the  convent  to  the  south- 
east another  "  cave  "  is  shown,  called  the  Milk  Grotto,  which  has 
been  cut  in  the  soft  white  limestone ;  the  dust  and  pieces  of 
stone  are  sold  to  pilgrims  and  travelers,  with  the  recommendation 
that  it  is  good  to  increase  the  quantity  of  a  mother's  milk,  be- 
cause tradition  says  the  Virgin  and  Child  hid  in  it  when  Herod's 
men  hunted  for  them.  Another  tradition  locates  the  well' men- 
tioned in  the  story  of  David  and  Saul,  which  was  called  a  cistern 
in  the  original  Septuagint  {lakkos,  and  Vulgate  cisterna)  ;  but  now 
a  well  is  named  "  David's  Well,"  and  is  visited  accordingly. 

In  locati-jig  Bethlehem  regard  should  be  paid  to  the  story  of 
Jacob,  in  which  the  writer  traces  a  part  of  his  journey  from 
Laban's  camp  in  Haran  (near  Damascus  ?)  to  Mahanaim,  Peniel, 
Succoth,  and  Shalem,  near  Shechem,  where  he  bought  a  field  for 
one  hundred  pieces  of  money,  and  built  an  altar  to  the  God  of 
Israel, — the  new  name  which  had  been  given  him  at  Peniel. 
After  he  had  buried  all  the  strange  gods  (stolen  from  her  father 
by  Rachel)  under  the  oak  near  Shechem,  he  journeyed  to  Luz,  — 
that  is.  Bethel,  —  where  Deborah  (Gen.  35:  8)  died  and  was 
buried;  and  he  built  another  altar  where  he  had  been  visited  by 
the  Lord  in  a  dream  when  he  was  on  his  way  to  Haran.  The 
two  notices  of  Bethel  read  like  two  distinct  accounts  (or  tradi- 
tions) of  one  event  by  different  writers,  for  the  words  attributed 
to  God  have  the  same  import  in  each ;   but  even  if  there  were 


308  DESCRIPTION  OF  TUE  ENGRAVINGS. 

two  versions,  they  agree  as  to  the  name  of  the  phice,  and  that  is 
preserved  in  the  present  Arab  name  Khirbet  el  Loz  (ruin  of  Luz), 
which  was  Bethel,  and  so  named  in  the  story  of  Abram's  journey 
to  Egypt  (Gen.  xii.  8).  The  name  may  be  the  Phoenician  licth-ul 
(in  Greek  Baitulos,  in  Hebrew  Bayth-ale). 

A  Jewish  tradition  iu  the  Talmud  says  that  the  original  stone 
pillar  set  up  at  Bethel  by  Jacob  was  removed  to  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem,  where  it  was  used  as  a  pedestal  for  the  ark  ;  and  it  is 
also  said  that  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Temple 
it  was  saved  by  the  Jews,  who  in  their  distress  made  their  lamen- 
tations to  it.  The  rabbis  refine  their  traditions  sometimes  ;  but 
the  refiners  of  fine  gold  are  those  who  have  adopted  this  tradition 
as  history  in  their  frequent  discoveries  of  the  lost  Ten  Tribes, 
and  continued  it  by  saying  tlie  tribe  of  Judah  migrated  to  Ire- 
land, escaping  captivity  in  Babylon,  and  carried  the  stone  with 
thera.  All  the  successful  Irish  kings  were  crowned  seated  on 
"  Jacob's  Pillow."  An  Irish  prince  took  the  stone  to  Scotland, 
and  all  the  successful  Scottish  kings  were  crowned  on  it.  Both 
Ireland  and  Scotland  lost  their  independence  when  the  stone  was 
carried  away  ;  and  now  it  is  in  Westminster  Abbey,  where  English 
sovereigns  are  crowned  on  the  sacred  stone.  If  it  should  disap- 
pear, England's  glory  will  depart  and  become  a  mere  memory. 

Josephus  mentions  Bethel  and  Ephraim  as  "  two  small  cities," 
apparently  near  each  other  (Wars,  iv.  9,  9).  It  is  possible  that 
the  site  now  called  Beitin  by  the  Arabs  is  not  Bethel,  but  Bether, 
where  a  battle  was  fought  between  the  Roman  Emperor  Hadrian 
and  the  Jewish  leader  Barkokab  (Bar-kok-ba),  and  that  Loz  is 
Bethel.  In  either  case,  the  two  sites  are  near  each  other. 
Ephraim  was  near  either,  and  was  a  city  in  the  wilderness  north- 
east from  Jerusalem ;  and  in  that  region,  a  few  miles  east  of 
Bethel,  we  find  a  site  on  a  fairly  rounded  hill,  now  called  by  the 
Arabs  Et  Tai3'ibeh  (the  good),  which  it  is  agreed  by  many 
writers,  including  Dr.  Robinson  (ii.  121),  is  the  true  site.  The 
place  is  sightly,  having  extensive  and  fine  views  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  it  is  surrounded  by  a  country  rich  in  soil,  and  dotted 
with  gardens  of  olives,  figs,  pomegranates,  and  other  fruits.  An 
old  tower  in  ruins  on  the  crest  may  date  from  the  Crusades, 
around  which  are  scattered  heaps  of  ruins.  The  modern  village 
is  nearly  half  a  mile  away.  From  the  top  of  the  ruins  of  the 
tower  one  may  see  the  Dead  Sea  to  the  southeast,  and  many  sites 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  309 

of  strongholds  of  Crusader  or  Saracen,  and  a  few  older  (perhaps 
Eomau)  works.  Toward  the  south  you  can  see  the  Frank  Moun- 
tain, the  burial-place  of  Herod  (a  tomb  of  Herod  shown  at  Jeru- 
salem is  a  mere  pretence)  ;  but  Jerusalem  and  the  Mount  of 
Olives  are  hidden  by  hills  (Mountains  of  Ephraim  ?).  The  view 
to  the  west  is  limited  by  near  hills  of  the  main  ridge  of  Samaria. 
A  Greek  chapel  near  the  hill  cannot  be  dated. 

This  was  a  commanding  site  for  a  city,  and  must  have  been 
inhabited  in  all  prosperous  times. 

Dr.  Robinson  says  it  may  have  been  Ophrah.  This  place  was 
not  far  from  Bethel  (Josh,  xviii.  23),  and  Mr.  George  Grove 
thinks  it  is  the  same  as  Ephron  and  Ephraim.  Ephraim  and 
Ephrain  are  only  different  ways  of  writing  the  same  name,  and  so 
also  are  Ephrath  and  Ephratah  variants  ;  and  all  of  these  names 
in  the  Hebrew  mean  ''fruitful;'"  and  Bethlehem  is  "house  of 
bread  =  fruitful." 

In  the  story  of  Ruth  it  is  said  that  Mahlon  and  Chilion  were 
Ephrathites  of  Bethlehem-Judah ;  and  in  Samuel  (1  Sam.  xvii. 
12)  we  read,  "Xow  David  was  the  son  of  that  Ephrathite  of 
Beth-lehem-Judah  whose  name  was  Jesse,"  in  the  story  of  the 
fight  with  Goliath.  The  writer  in  Samuel  also  makes  Zuph,  the 
ancestor  of  the  prophet,  a  native  of  Ephrath  (Bethlehem) 
(1  Sam.  i.  1). 

The  Douay  version  also  coincides  with  this  opinion,  and  says, 
"Ephrata,  the  father  (builder)  of  Bethlehem  "  (1  Paralip.  iv.  4); 
and  so  also  Psalms  (cxxxii.  6).  Hengstenberg  (iv.  75),  in  com- 
menting on  the  Psalms,  says  Ephratah  is  Bethlehem. 

Jephthah  the  Ephraimite  was  judge  of  Israel,  and  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Ibzan  of  Bethlehem,  who  judged  Israel  seven  years, 
died,  and  was  buried  in  Bethlehem  ;  and  these  rulers  lived,  ruled, 
fought,  and  died  north  of  Jerusalem. 

This  region  was  frequently  mentioned  by  the  compilers  of  the 
legends  and  traditions,  and  it  is  probable  that  other  traditions 
of  the  Prophets  are  properly  located  there,  —  for  instance,  the 
field  that  Jacob  bought  of  Hamoi",  Shechem's  father  (or  founder), 
and  the  cave  in  the  field  of  Machpelah,  which  is  before  Mamre, 
in  the  land  of  Canaan,  which  Abraham  bought  with  the  field  of 
Ephron  the  Hittite,  were  both  north  of  Jerusalem,  and  not  south, 
as  located  by  the  monks.  All  the  references  to  these  places  are 
consistent  with  the  su] •;>:;' ition   that  Ophrah,  Aphrah,  Ephron, 


810  DESCRirrroN  or  the  ex  a  ravings. 

Ephrath,  Ephratbah,  and  Bethlehem  are  one  and  the  same  place, 
and  that  its  site  was  north,  and  not  south,  of  Jerusalem.  The 
descendants  of  Ephraim,  son  of  Joseph,  were  located  north  of 
Jerusalem,  and  were  never  assigned  to  any  place  south  of  the 
Holy  City  ;  and  their  sanctuary  was  Bethel  or  Shiloh. 

Josephus  (Ant.  xiii.  4,  9)  says  that  Demetrius  Nikator,  to 
show  favor  to  tlie  Jews,  remitted  three  prefectures,  Apherima, 
Lydda,  and  Ramatha,  which  had  been  added  to  Judaea ;  and  we 
see  in  this  the  origin  of  that  form  of  the  name  Bethlehem  of 
Judsea.  (This  also  indicates  an  editing  of  the  Old  Testament  text 
after  the  act  of  Demetrius.)  This  Apherima  is  Aphrah,  Ophrah, 
or  Bethlehem.  j\[icah  (v.  2)  says:  "But  thou,  Bethlehem 
Ephratah,  though  thou  be  little  among  the  thousands  of  Judah, 
yet  out  of  thee  shall  he  come  forth  unto  me  that  is  to  be  ruler  in 
Israel."  This  verse  and  another  (iii,  12)  suggest  a  later  editor, 
—  perhaps  about  the  time  or  soon  after  Hadrian  ploughed  Zion, 

Bethlehem  is  said  to  have  been  near  Xetophah  in  the  account 
of  the  peoples  in  Nehemiah  (vii.  26)  ;  and  Wadi  en  Netif,  south 
of  Michraash  (Mukmas),  preserves  that  name. 

The  grave  of  Rachel  is  mentioned  in  Samuel  (x.  2),  where 
Saul  is  directed  in  his  search  after  his  father's  lost  asses  ;  and  it 
is  out  of  all  reason  or  probability  to  suppose  that  the  prophet 
referred  to  the  so-called  Rachel's  Tomb  of  the  modern  monks, 
south  of  Jerusalem,  ten  or  more  miles  out  of  the  region  in  which 
Saul  was  hunting.  The  onl}'  point  wanting  here  is  the  site  of 
Zelzah.  That  word  in  Hebrew  means  ''the  shadow  of  a  rock  ;  " 
and  the  explorers  have  not  yet  exhausted  that  district  in  search 
of  sites. 

It  seems  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  writer  of  the  story  of 
Rachel's  death  and  burial  intended  those  events  to  occur  in  the 
territory  of  her  son  Benjamin.  The  tomb  south  of  Jerusalem  is 
four  miles  outside  of  the  south  limit  of  that  territory.  The  text 
says  it  was  but  a  little  way  from  Bethel  to  Ephrath,  which 
is  Bethlehem,  where  Rachel  died.  In  that  vicinity  tlierefore 
must  the  explorers  look  for  Zelzah  and  Rachel's  tomb. 

After  the  Saracens  occupied  Palestine  and  drove  out  the  Chris- 
tians from  the  "  holy  places  "  in  Jerusalem  and  elsewhere,  the 
Christians  established  other  so-called  "sacred  places,"  which  in 
many  cases  are  those  now  shown,  and  they  have  really  no  con- 
nection with  the  real  sites  referred  to  in  Scripture.     These  newly 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  311 

arranged  localities  were  adopted  for  convenience,  as  well  as  from 
necessity.  In  the  case  of  Mount  Sinai,  which  was  at  first  Jebel 
Madurah,  south  of  and  not  far  from  Hebron,  the  new  locality 
was  removed  a  long  distance,  —  far  away  in  the  heart  of  the 
mountains  of  the  Arabian  peninsula ;  but  to  which  mountain  no 
one  can  say  for  certain,  because  of  the  difficulties  that  arise  in 
each  location  out  of  three,  — Jebel  Serbal,  Jebel  Sufsofeh  (Musa), 
and  the  site  proposed  by  Dr.  Beke  east  of  Akabah. 

Jebel  Madurah  of  the  Arabs  may  be  the  Mozerah  of  the  Jews ; 
and  as  Hor  in  Chaldee  is  the  moon,  and  Sin  is  the  moon,  and  Hor, 
Horeb,  and  Sinai  refer  to  the  same  mountain,  and  the  text  says 
Aaron  died  in  Mount  Hor  (Num.  xxxiii.  39)  and  also  in  Mosera 
(Deut.  X.  6),  Sinai  is  Mosera,  and  the  site  is  now  Madurah,  and 
not  either  of  the  localities  offered  by  the  monks  in  the  Sinaitic 
peninsula. 

These  reflections,  with  others  not  mentioned  here,  have  led  me 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  geography  of  the  "  holy  places  "  is  in 
great  need  of  rearrangement  on  the  ancient  model.  (Imp,  ed., 
vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890;  vol.  i.) 

Supposed  Portraits  of  Jesus  the  Christ. 

An  undoubtedly  genuine  portrait  of  the  Saviour  which  had 
been  preserved  to  our  day,  would  be  esteemed  by  all  Christians 
as  the  most  precious  work  of  art  in  existence.  This  reflection 
suggests  the  query,  Is  there  any  portrait  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
that  is  worthy  of  respect  for  its  antiquity  ?  and  still  another, 
Is  there  any  known  picture  that  merits  our  attention  as  any 
approach  to  a  likeness? 

It  is  not  an  easy  task  to  answer  these  queries  so  as  to  satisfy 
all  classes  of  believers ;  more  especially  those  who  feel  and  be- 
lieve that  by  miraculous  power  a  likeness  has  been  handed 
down  from  age  to  age  for  divine  purposes,  as  the  custom  of  lay- 
ing on  of  hands  in  the  ministry  has  been  continued,  that  Christ 
the  Teacher  might  be  represented  among  men. 

The  Gospels  do  not  allude  to  any  likeness,  nor  do  they  contain 
the  slightest  hint  of  the  personal  appearance  of  Jesus.  In  the 
absence  of  any  such  original  and  authentic  likeness,  pious  be- 
lievers in  nearly  all  ages  since  the  crucifixion  have  made  attempts 
more  or  less  ambitious  to  reproduce   such   ideals  as  they  had 


312  DESCIUPTIOX  OF  THE  exghavings. 

formed  of  the  divine  original.  Some  of  these  works  of  art  have 
been  preserved  in  mosaics  dated  from  tlie  seoond  to  tlie  seventh 
centuries ;  or  as  pictures  on  linen  cloth  in  transparent  color,  and 
dated  before  the  third  century,  and  also  attributed  to  the  hand 
of  Saint  Veronica,  the  lady  who,  tradition  says,  laid  a  cloth  on  the 
face  of  Jesus,  and  so  obtained,  by  a  sort  of  miracle,  a  likeness  of 
her  Lord ;  and  others  painted  in  wat(>r-color  on  wood,  in  what  is 
called  Byzantine  style,  and  credited  to  the  hand  of  Saint  Luke ; 
and  also  images  made  of  metal  by  the  Ostro-Goths  in  Italy ;  and 
many  sculptures,  frescos,  aud  other  works  of  art  on  glass,  stone, 
and  other  materials,  found  in  Christian  cemeteries  and  in  the 
catacombs  under  the  city  of  Rome,  dated  during  the  first  four 
centuries. 

It  is  certain  that  all  of  these  dates  are  much  too  high,  and  that 
very  few  works  of  Christian  art  can  be  assigned  to  any  particular 
century  before  Pope  Callistus  (a.  d.  219),  who  was  of  the  Domi- 
tian  family,  had  been  a  banker  in  the  Forum,  and  made  a  cata- 
comb under  his  garden,  usiug  in  some  of  the  loenll  bricks  stamped 
with  dates  in  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  the  scholarly  empe- 
ror of  Rome.  It  is  said  that  the  cemetery  was  founded  by  the 
Metelli  family,  of  whom  the  mole  of  Csecilia  Metclla  is  the  only 
monument  remaining. 

In  this  catacomb  of  Callistus  many  paintings  with  allusions  to 
Christian  themes  were  found,  one  of  which  is  very  interesting, 
showing  the  influence  of  Pagan  ideas,  in  a  composition  with 
Christ  as  Apollo  or  Orpheus  charming  all  animated  creation  by 
the  music  of  his  lyre,  and  about  it  on  eight  panels  as  many  sub- 
jects from  the  Old  and  the  oSTew  Testaments.  The  fish  and  many 
other  symbols  determine  the  character  of  the  place  and  the  faith 
of  its  occupants.  The  faces  of  the  figures  of  Jesus  in  the  cata- 
comb are  very  crude,  but  full  of  meaning  and  never  uncertain  in 
their  expression.  They  were  nearly  all  of  one  tyjie,  with  long 
hair  parted  in  the  middle,  whiskers  short  and  thin,  and  mustache. 
But  if  any  doubt  could  be  felt  at  these  figures  being  intended  for 
Jesus  and  the  Apostles,  that  would  be  dissipated  by  the  inscrip- 
tions, which  are  unmistakable,  particularly  the  acrostic  of  the 
Roman  sibyl  given  by  Saint  Augustine  and  Eusebius  (Civ.  Dei, 
xviii.  23 ;  Euseb.  Orat.  Const.,  c.  18),  which  contains  the  initial 
letters  of  the  titles  of  the  Lord,  making  the  Greek  word 
I-X-TH-U-S  for  lesous  Xristos,  Theou  Uios,  Soter,  —  that  is,  Jesus 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  313 

Christ,  Son  of  God,  Saviour.  That  the  artists  had  no  authentic 
model  to  follow  is  evident  from  the  figure  of  Jesus  in  the  picture 
of  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  in  which  the  head  of  Jesus  is  that  of 
a  young  man,  beardless  and  with  curled  hair,  massed  but  not 
parted. 

In  a  picture  of  the  changing  of  water  into  wine,  Jesus  stands 
in  the  midst  of  seven  water  or  wine  jars,  with  head  decorated 
with  long  hair  falling  to  the  shoulders  and  rolled  up  at  the  end ; 
short,  spare  whiskers.  There  were  many  of  these  pictures  done  in 
gold  on  glass  plates  or  on  the  bottoms  of  glass  cups.  As  the 
skill  of  the  artist  increased,  the  type  of  the  likeness  improved, 
until  the  best  resemble  very  closely  the  one  engraved  here  as 
No.l. 

It  would  be  very  interesting,  even  as  a  study  in  archaeology,  if 
the  exact  date  of  any  one  of  the  many  glass  plates  or  cups  could 
be  determined,  but  it  is  not  possible  in  the  absence  of  inscriptions 
which  have  names  known  to  history.  It  is  said  that  Pope 
Damasus  closed  the  cemeteries  to  interments  and  prohibited 
visiting  as  early  as  a.  d.  365.  Eusebius  says  that  the  portrait  of 
the  Lord  was  placed  on  the  bottoms  of  the  sacramental  ves- 
sels of  the  primitive  Church,  and  that  vessels  of  metal  were  sub- 
stituted for  those  of  glass  by  a  decree  of  the  Church.  This  would 
date  the  glass  vessels  in  the  catacombs  before  a.  d.  330. 

Sanguine  believers  have  accepted  as  true  the  tradition  that 
Saint  Luke  painted  portraits  of  the  Virgin  and  of  Jesus,  and 
they  also  accept  certain  pictures  which  are  shown  in  Italy  and 
elsewhere  as  the  genuine  work  of  the  Evangelist.  With  these 
pictures  there  is  also  shown  to  the  visitor  a  remarkable  amount 
of  credulity  in  certain  pretended  miracles  or  wonderful  cures  said 
to  have  been  wrought  by  the  occult  power  or  mysterious  influ- 
ence of  the  ancient  painting. 

The  most  popular  of  these  heads  is  painted  on  wood,  shows  an 
Italian  or  Greek  style  of  face,  scarred,  with  large  drops  of  blood, 
short  hair,  and  whiskers  trimmed  into  three  points,  mustache 
light  and  carefully  arranged.  Another  is  of  similar  type,  with- 
out the  scars  and  blood-drops,  and  bordered  with  a  pattern 
usually  in  gold.  These  vary  from  a  robust  type  of  man  of 
middle  age  to  that  of  one  of  feebler  make,  resembling  Ko.  3,  by 
Erancia,  a  friend  of  Rafael,  who  earned  the  commendation  of 
that  great  master  for  his  Madonnas,  which  were  so  beautiful  and 


314  DESCRIPTION  OF   TUE  ENGRAVINGS. 

SO  devout  that  Rafael  said  he  had  seen  none  superior.  Francia 
did  not  follow  the  ancient  type,  either  of  the  catacombs  or  of  the 
so-called  Lukes,  or  even  of  the  so-called  Saint  Veronica  "hand- 
kerchief "  pictures ;  but  it  is  finer  and  higher  as  an  ideal  than 
any  or  all  of  them. 

No.  2  is  from  an  emerald  gem,  engraved  in  ^the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, after  Eafael  painted  his  picture  —  or  rather  designed  his  car- 
toon—  of  the  "Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes;"  for  in  the  profile 
and  shading  it  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  head  of  Jesus  in  that  com- 
position. Some  pious  monk,  it  is  probable,  invented  the  legend 
that  it  was  made  for  the  Emperor  Tiberius.  There  is  no  evidence 
that  Tiberius  ever  heard  of  Jesus  the  Christ,  and  he  was  not 
famous  for  employing  artists  on  devotional  subjects  at  his  palace 
and  grounds  in  the  island  of  Capri,  to  which  he  had  retired 
A.  D.  26,  before  Jesus  was  qualified  to  teach  under  the  Jewish  law, 
which  required  the  age  of  thirty  years.  Tiberius  died  a.  d.  37, 
after  a  series  of  years  of  a  life  the  very  reverse  of  that  of  a 
pious  hermit. 

The  great  masters  have  left  heads  of  Christ  more  or  less  valu- 
able as  works  of  art,  and  probably  in  each  case  near  the  ideal 
which  each  had  formed  of  the  divine  original.  The  gi'eat  German 
Diirer  thought  of  him  as  the  crucified  one,  the  rejected  king 
of  the  Jews,  and  has  made  a  grand  and  impressive  work,  com- 
bining idealism  and  realism,  with  the  conventional  hair  and 
beard.  The  type  of  face  is  studied  from  the  Germans  about  the 
master,  and  is  not  Oriental. 

The  famous  French  master,  Paul  Delaroche,  painted  the 
Saviour  in  a  dramatic  style,  which  has  been  since  (1850)  made 
very  popular  by  Dore  in  his  illustrations  to  the  Bible,  which  are 
rich  in  imagination,  strong,  but  wanting  in  delicacy  and  refine- 
ment, so  essential  in  spiritual  things  as  they  are  presented  by  the 
Church. 

The  great  Italian  master,  Titian,  idealized  a  head  of  the  Christ 
which  arrests  attention  for  its  quiet  dignity ;  but  it  is  cold, 
distant.  The  eyes  are  directed  at  a  far-away  object,  and  the  face 
is  of  one  who  is  to  be  respected,  but  not  lovedc 

Leonardo  da  Vinci  painted  a  supper  scene  in  a  refectory  for 
the  convent  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie,  which  is  said  to  be  his 
best  work.  The  fresco  has  nearly  jjerished,  but  the  design  has 
been  preserved  in  the  fine  engraving  by  Kafael  Morghen,  and 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  315 

from  that  head  of  the  Christ,  idealized  by  the  great  Venetian, 
Mr.  William  E.  Marshall,  of  New  York,  painted  a  head  and  en- 
graved the  plate  as  a  frontispiece  to  the  first  volume  of  this  work. 
In  the  estimation  of  many  Mr.  Marshall  has  restored  most  of  the 
master's  tine  points  in  form  and  expression,  and  beside  the  con- 
ventional type  so  necessary  in  this  character  because  in  a  sense 
fixed  by  tradition  and  centuries  of  art  work,  he  has  added  traits 
of  intellectual  vigor,  and  tender,  womanly  sympathy  never  before 
equalled  in  an  ideal  of  Jesus  the  Christ.  The  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  success  in  such  a  work  are  almost  insurmountable,  and 
the  work  can  never  rise  above  the  ideal  formed  in  the  mind  of 
the  artist.  That  ideal  is  formed  after  many  years  of  study  of  the 
possibilities  of  art,  the  requirements  of  the  religious  world,  the 
criticisms  of  artists  and  connoisseurs  who  have  studied  the  works 
of  the  great  masters,  and  finally  the  consciousness  that  the  divine 
original  is  really  the  ideal  man,  the  sum  of  all  that  is  noble  and 
excellent  in  both  tlie  physical  and  moral  world.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ; 
8vo  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Angelio  Appearance  to  the  Shepherds.  The  Shepherd's 
Field. 
About  a  mile  east  of  the  Convent  Fort  at  the  modern  Bethle- 
hem, on  a  terraced  slope,  the  monks  locate  the  traditional  appear- 
ance of  the  angels  to  the  shepherds.  A  small  village  stands  near 
the  site  of  an  ancient  tower,  and  not  far  away  a  ruined  Greek 
chapel  is  shaded  by  old  olive  and  fig  trees.  This  place  is  not 
now  a  pasture,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  it  ever  was.  For  more  on 
this  subject,  see  Bethlehem.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Temple  Porch. 
Eev.  T.  0.  Paine,  in  his  work  "  Solomon's  Temple,"  has  de- 
vised a  plan  of  that  "  holy  house,"  which  answers  nearly  every 
requirement  of  the  Scripture  text,  as  well  as  that  of  Josephus. 
As  no  special  features  of  ornamentation  or  decoration  are  de- 
tailed in  the  Bible  or  in  Josephus,  none  have  been  attempted 
by  Mr.  Paine.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

The  Temple  Interior  (T.  0.  Paine). 
Mr.  Paine's  idea  of  the  auditorium  of  the  Temple  is  that  it  in- 
creased in  size  by  successive  stages  outward  at  the  sides,  each 


316  DESCBTPTION  OF  THE  ENCRAnNGS. 

story  forming  a  gallery.  If  it  was  built  on  that  model,  it  was  a 
unique  and  peculiar  structure,  and  the  loss  of  it  is  to  be  deplored. 
There  are  many  other  ideas  as  to  its  form  ;  but  Mr.  Paine's  seems 
to  have  eclipsed  all  others.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Frankincense  and  Myrrh. 

The  wise  men  of  Chaldaea  (the  East)  brought  gifts  to  the 
manger,  which  were,  as  an  old  poet  has  sung, — 

"  Gold  as  a  gift  to  a  king; 
Frankincense  as  adoration  to  the  Son  of  God ; 
Myrrh  as  the  sign  of  the  Passion  and  the  embalming." 

Frankincense.  —  Boswellia  serrata. 

Myrrh.  —  Balsamodendrou  myrrha,  also  Amyris  Katef ;  for 
each  of  these  is  suggested  as  the  small  tree  referred  to.  The 
A.  Katef  grows  in  Syria  and  Arabia,  and  supplies  a  gum  from  its 
twigs  and  stems,  which  is  the  myrrh  of  commerce.  It  was  valued 
by  the  ancients  as  a  perfume,  but  is  now  used  in  medicine  only. 
The  myrrba  is  a  similar  tree,  and  its  product  is  also  the  gum  of 
commerce.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

The  Flight  into  Egypt.     View  in  Wadi  Ithm. 

This  pass  is  on  the  route  from  the  ancient  stone  city  of  Petra 
to  Akabah  on  the  Red  Sea.  The  mountains  of  Edoni,  cleft  here, 
are  mainly  of  dark  red  sandstone,  which  is  probably  the  origin  of 
the  name  Edom,  which  means  "  red  "  in  Arabic,  and  also  in  Hebrew 
(Adum,  or  adam).  It  is  a  short  cut  on  one  of  the  routes.  The 
lower  rocks  are  limestone,  under  the  hills  and  in  some  of  the 
level  ground  ;  but  the  large  plains  are  covered  with  red  sand,  — 
powdered  sandstone,  called  Ramleh.  Innumerable  varieties  of 
flowers  carpet  the  soil  everywhere  in  winter,  the  rainy  season  ; 
but  in  the  summer,  the  dry  season,  dust  reigns  supreme.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  i.) 

John  the  Baptist  in  the  Wilderness.     View  east  from  Olivet. 

Standing  on  the  summit  of  Olivet,  a  few  steps  south  of  the  so- 
called  Chapel  of  the  Ascension,  the  eye  glances  first  at  the  distant 
range  of  mountains,  which  rise  like  a  wall  against  the  sky,  form- 
ing the  bigh  plateau  of  Moab, — a  region  with  many  ruins  of 
wreat  cities,  and  in  all  respects  of  soil  and  climate  one  of  the 


DESClilPTWN  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  317 

most  desirable  in  the  world,  but  in  its  people  nomadic,  except  in 
a  few  villages ;  one  of  the  least  to  be  coveted,  or  rather  to  be 
most  widely  shunned.  Its  ruins  are  many,  grand,  extensive,  and 
of  unknown  origin. 

At  the  foot  of  the  wall  the  dark  gray  line  marks  the  course  of 
the  river  Jordan,  which  you  can  trace  to  the  north  end  of  the 
Dead  Sea,  near  the  right  side  of  the  picture.  Above  and  beyond 
the  sea  is  the  site  of  Mount  Pisgah  and  Mount  Nebo,  and  the 
springs  of  Moses,  as  identified  by  Eev.  John  A.  Paine,  Archaeolo- 
gist to  the  American  Branch  of  the  Palestine  Exploration. 

To  the  left  the  rounded  mountain  is  Quarantana,  —  so  named 
by  the  monks,  who  locate  the  temptation  of  Jesus  thereon  ;  the 
valley  this  side  of  it  is  the  Wadi  Kelt,  one  of  the  locations  of  the 
ancient  Cherith  (see  map  Vicinity  of  Jerusalem).  The  next 
rounded  summit  to  the  right  is  Adummim  (the  red  hill),  on  which 
the  Romans  built  a  small  fort,  the  walls  of  which  are  still  there. 
From  it  one  may  see  Olivet  to  the  southwest,  and  Jericho  to  the 
northeast. 

The  rounded  hill  below  the  end  of  the  Dead  Sea  is  that  on 
which  the  Mohammedans  have  located  the  grave  of  Moses,  and 
built  a  mosque,  convent,  and  fort  over  it. 

This  region  is  a  part  of  the  great  wilderness,  and  is  almost 
destitute  of  trees,  but  is  in  summer  in  a  few  places  good  pasture, 
but  in  winter  a  vast  expanse  of  rich  feeding-ground  for  cattle 
and  wild  animals.  Gazelles  are  seen  in  droves,  and  ihey  some- 
times come  to  the  very  top  of  Olivet.  Bethany  is  hidden  behind 
a  spur  of  Olivet,  but  a  few  houses  are  shown  to  indicate  its  posi- 
tion. Fi-om  a  little  way  below  Bethany  to  Olivet  many  fruit  and 
a  few  forest  trees  grow,  and  here  and  there  a  garden  is  cultivated. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

John  Baptizing  in  the  Wilderness. 

The  Ghor.  —  Jordan  Valley. 

The  Jordan  Valley  near  the  ancient  Bethshan,  which  is  now 
called  Beisan,  is  narrower  than  at  Jericho:  but  the  cliffs  are 
chalky,  or  of  the  same  soft  limestone  that  underlies  the  whole 
country.  The  ancient  Succoth  is  "  located  "  near  this  place,  and 
probably  near  the  true  site  of  the  ford  which  the  writer  of  the 
8tory  of  Jacob  had  in  mind. 


318  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Bethshan,  or  Scythopolis,  has  had  a  noted  liistory ;  and  its  ruins, 
on  several  hills,  separated  by  deep  steep-sided  ravines,  with  a 
brook  in  every  one,  indicate  a  place  of  great  natural  strength  as 
a  military  post  before  the  age  of  cannon.  Kuins  of  many  small 
temples  dedicated  to  various  gods  show  a  once  high  state  of 
religious   activity. 

The  theatre  was  one  hundred  and  ninety -three  feet  in  diameter, 
circular,  and  built  of  good  stone.     (Imp.  eel.,  vol.  i.) 

The  Temptation.     Mount  Quarantana. 

Near  and  west  of  the  modern  Bedawin  village  called  Er  Eiha 
(which  is  Arab  for  Jericho),  rises  a  steep,  rocky,  bare  mountain 
about  five  hundred  feet  above  the  Elisha  Fountain,  near  its  foot. 
Its  face  is  bored  with  "  a  thousand  and  one  "  cells,  each  of  which 
has  had  in  the  good  old  ascetic  days  one  or  more  monks  or  an- 
chorites as  dwellers.  I  am  afraid  to  repeat  the  number  estimated 
as  the  population  of  this  immense  rookery,  or  monkery,  in  the 
age  when  such  a  life  was  fashionable.  The  ruins  of  a  few  sugar- 
mills,  with  the  aqueducts  that  supplied  water-power,  are  still 
standing  near.  The  Temptation  has  been  located  on  Mount  Sinai, 
and  also  at  Jerusalem,  and  on  the  very  pinnacle  of  the  Temple. 
See  notes  on  "  Jericho."     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Baptism  of  Jesus  hy  John.    Ford  on  Jordan  near  Jericho. 

Tliis  fording-place  is  the  most  frequented  of  any  south  of  the 
crossing  on  the  Es  Salt  Nablus  (Shechem)  route,  and  it  is  the 
place  where  the  Latin  monks  locate  tlie  baptism  of  Jesus, 
the  Greeks  having  adopted  another  place  four  or  five  miles 
farther  up  stream.  The  river-bed  is  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  wide,  and  fordable  on  a  coarse  gravel  bar  except  in  the 
rainy  season.  After  the  spring  rains  and  melted  snows  have 
swelled  the  stream,  the  waters  overflow  the  lower  banks,  which 
are  here  only  about  ten  feet  high,  and  spread  across  the  second 
terrace  to  the  chalk  hills,  making  a  flood  from  five  hundred  to 
fifteen  hundred  feet  across,  as  the  chalky  hills  or  cliffs  come  near 
or  recede  from  the  winding  river.  The  plain  west  to  Jericho  is 
nearly  ten  miles  wide,  and  east  to  the  foot  of  the  Moab  Moun- 
tains a  mile,  more  or  less  according  to  the  course  of  the  river. 

Thousands  of  pilgrims  and  travelers  come  to  this  place  at  every 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  319 

Easter  to  bathe  in  the  water,  and  many  of  thera  carry  away  a 
bottle  full  as  a  keepsake,  or  to  use  in  the  baptism  or  christening 
of  some  poor  souls  who  may  be  deprived  of  the  privilege  of 
visiting  the  Jordan.  The  place  is  now  in  constant  use  by  the 
Bedawins  of  Moab  who  are  on  their  way  to  trade  at  Jerusalem, 
or,  as  it  often  happens,  are  passing  to  or  from  a  raid  either  against 
some  tribal  enemy  or  to  ravage  a  wheat  or  barley  field.  A  few 
years  since  a  ferry-boat  with  a  guy-rope  was  established  at  the 
ford,  and  it  was  used  during  high  water  to  carry  wheat  and  bai'ley 
and  cattle  across  ;  but  at  low  water  the  Bedawins  preferred  to  use 
their  animals,  although  at  a  risk  of  losing  a  donkey  or  a  horse 
now  and  then,  or  a  few  bags  of  grain  at  the  least.  Bleaching 
skeletons  of  men  on  the  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea  show  that  some- 
times men  are  caught  by  the  swift  current  and  carried  away. 

The  river-banks  are  fringed  with  many  kinds  of  forest-trees 
and  shrubs,  and  their  shade  and  coolness  are  very  grateful  to  the 
tired  and  half-roasted  traveler.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890, 
vol.  i.) 

The  First  Miracle.     Cana.     Kana  el  Jelil. 

This  view  is  of  a  very  pretty  village  nine  miles  north  of  Naza- 
reth, on  the  end  of  a  rounded  hill  which  rises  from  the  west  end 
of  the  plain  of  Buttauf,  near  the  foot  of  Jebel  Kaukab,  now 
ruinous  and  sparsely  peopled.  It  has  been  an  important  place, 
and  in  a  favorable  time  would  soon  again  become  a  village  of 
consequence.  It  does  not  alone  bear  the  honor  of  the  location  of 
the  miracle  of  turning  water  into  wine  ;  for  another  village  six 
miles  nearer  Nazareth  is  also  said  to  be  the  true  site,  and  is 
called  Kefr  Kenna.  The  argument  turns  in  favor  of  the  identifi- 
cation of  Kana,  chiefly,  if  not  solely,  on  its  name,  which  trans- 
lated is  Cana  of  Galilee. 

For  Kefr  Kenna  it  is  urged  that  in  the  eighth  century  Willi- 
bald,  a  pilgrim,  and  in  the  twelfth,  Phocas,  visited  the  place, 
where  a  fountain  was  shown  as  the  one  from  which  the  water  was 
drawn  and  the  water-pots  of  stone  in  which  the  water  was  changed 
to  wine ;  and  these  pots  remained  there  until  M.  de  Lamartine, 
the  famous  Frenchman,  visited  the  village,  although  during  the 
Crusades  the  six  waterpots  had  been  carried  to  Paris,  and  after- 
wards deposited  in  the  Museum  at  Angers,  France.  The  pic- 
tures  in   the  Roman   catacombs  (see  portraits  of  Jesus)    show 


320  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

seven  waterpots  as  the  popular  number  in  the  early  ages  of  the 
Cliurch. 

In  either  case  the  site  of  Cana  can  only  be  fixed  on  probabili- 
ties, for  as  much  can  be  said  for  one  place  as  for  the  other ;  and 
there  are  no  inscriptions  or  other  ancient  monuments  to  indicate 
even  the  name  of  the  place.  Of  course  the  devout  pilgrim  ■will 
not  stop  to  debate  the  question  of  the  site  ;  it  is  the  work  said  to 
have  been  done  there  that  interests,  and  that  can  be  made  a  subject 
for  reflection  on  one  site  as  well  as  on  the  other.  Students,  how- 
ever, will  continue  to  balance  the  probabilities.    (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Passover.     Christ  Clearing  the  Temple.     Figures  by  Schnorr. 

Professor  Schnorr,  of  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Dresden, 
made  a  series  of  designs  called  "  The  Bible  in  Pictures  "  (Die 
Bibel  in  Bildern),  of  which  this  is  one.  He  studied  Oriental 
manners  and  customs,  and  visited  the  Holy  Land ;  but  he  unfor- 
tunately adopted  a  peculiar  mannerism  which  was  neither  Oriental 
nor  German,  but  was  highly  dramatic.  Like  his  contemporary 
Dore  of  France,  Herr  Professor  Schnorr  believed  the  best  method 
of  retelling  Bible  stories  in  pictures  was  to  let  the  fancy  free, 
and  add  story  to  story,  collate  acts  into  scenes,  and  move  the 
imagination  of  the  beholder  by  ideal  figures.  Not  one  of  his 
figures  is  true  as  to  technical  details  ;  but  they  tell  the  story  in 
a  grand  way,  which  makes  a  lasting  impression.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ; 
8vo  ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

Selling  Doves  in  the  Temple. 

The  design  by  Mr.  Paine  shows  an  attempt  at  decoration  of 
the  interior  walls  by  palm-trees  and  cherubim.  What  the 
cherubim  were  has  not  yet  been  satisfactorily  determined,  but 
that  they  were  some  kind  of  animated  creature  with  wings  is 
acce})ted.  Behind  a  screen  a  modern  Fellah  sits  cross-legged,  as 
Orientals  do,  with  some  sheep  on  one  side  and  pigeons  on  the 
other,  waiting  for  customers.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

John  the  Baptist  in  Prison.     Mach^rus. 

Josephus,  Pliny,  and  Strabo  give  us  an  impression  of  a  very 
strong  fortification  on  the  east  of  the  Dead  Sea ;  and  there  it  is 
now,  only  tumbled  into  vast  heaps  of  ruins.     It  stands  on  a  spur 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  321 

of  the  Mountains  of  Moab  wliich  extends  west  about  two  miles 
from  the  main  range,  with  a  ravine  on  each  side  a  half-mile 
apart,  ever  deepening  until  it  reaches  the  Dead  Sea  four  thou- 
sand feet  below  and  five  miles  away.  The  citadel  and  palace  and 
the  upper  city  were  nearly  half  a  mile  apart,  and  the  village  lay 
between  and  on  an  upper  and  a  lower  terrace  east  and  west  of  the 
fort.  The  visitor  can  see  from  either  site,  fort  or  palace,  the 
whole  length  of  the  Dead  Sea,  Judaea  from  the  mountain  called 
Usdum,  and  Hebron  to  Bethlehem,  Jerusalem,  and  the  hights 
beyond  Bethel ;  while  Jericho  is  very  distinct,  and  the  Jordan  can 
be  traced  for  thirty  or  forty  miles. 

The  citadel  ruins  are  one  thousand  feet  across,  circular ;  and 
within"  them  was  the  royal  palace,  also  in  heaps.  Two  vaulted 
dungeons  or  cisterns,  thirty  feet  long  by  twenty  wide,  may  be  en- 
tered by  a  good  climber.  One  cistern  cut  m  the  rock  is  ninety 
feet  long  by  twenty  wide,  and  thirty  deep.  The  water  in  the 
ravine  below  is  warm,  and  may  be  reached  by  steps  cut  in  the 
rock.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

The  Woman  of  Samaria  at  Jacob's  Well,  near  Shechem. 

This  very  large  well,  now  dry,  is  in  the  Plain  of  Mukhna, 
about  a  mile  southeast  from  Shechem,  near  the  foot  of  Mount 
Gerizim.  The  well  is  nine  feet  in  diameter,  circular,  smooth,  and 
seventy- five  feet  to  the  bottom,  —  or  to  the  rubbish,  which  fills 
thirty  feet  more.  Jerome  described  a  chapel  over  it  in  his  day, 
A.  D.  404  (Antoninus  Martyr  in  the  sixth  century,  Arculfus  in 
the  seventh,  and  Willibald  in  the  eighth,  also  mention  it),  which 
was  in  the  cross  form ;  but  in  1103  Ssewulf,  and  in  1185  Phocas 
saw  none,  since  when  only  ruins  have  been  noticed,  and  only  a 
few  broken  columns  and  some  loose  blocks  of  building-stone 
now  remain.  Eecently,  it  is  said,  the  Russians  have  obtained 
permission  to  build  a  chapel  over  the  well.  The  site  is  on  a  ridge 
about  twenty  feet  higher  than  the  level  of  the  plain.  In  the 
distance  the  little  white  buildings  mark  the  site  of  the  so-called 
Tomb  of  the  Patriarch  Joseph,  whose  bones  were  said  to  have 
been  brought  out  of  Egypt  and  interred  there.  This  well,  named 
Jacob's,  is  alniost  the  only  "  sacred  locality  "  in  Palestine  about 
which  there  is  no  dispute  among  the  religious  sects,  Christian 
and  Mohammedan  and  Jew  agreeing  that  it  is  the  true  site. 

VOL.   II.  —  21 


322  DESCRIPTION  OF  TUE  ENGRAVINGS. 

There  is  very  little  doubt  that  this  region  is  the  one  alluded  to 
as  the  one  visited  by  Abraham,  Jacob,  and  other  patriarchs ;  and 
further  exploration  may,  and  it  is  very  likely  will,  bring  to  light 
more  proofs  of  the  correctness  of  the  locations,  as  laid  down  by 
the  original  writers.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

Rejected  at  Nazareth.    View  near  the  Makonite  Church. 

A  number  of  steep  places  along  the  brow  of  the  hill  that  over- 
hangs Nazareth  are  steep  enough  to  have  aiforded  a  means  of 
precipitation  of  a  person  headlong  with  fatal  results;  but  the 
monks  have  taken  extra  pains  to  go  two  miles  or  more  away 
from  the  village  to  a  cliif  that  hangs  over  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon, 
which  they  have  dignified  with  the  name  of  The  Mount  of  Pre- 
cipitation. Seeing  the  absurdity  of  marching  a  proposed  victim 
such  a  long  distance,  they  offer  the  explanation  that  the  village 
was  anciently  near  that  mountain  ;  but  they  do  not  find,  nor  can 
we  find,  any  evidences  of  former  or  present  habitation  there.  In 
this  instance  there  are  too  many  possible  sites  in  the  modern  vil- 
lage; but  it  is  not  a  question  worth  debating,  for  any  one  of  them 
is  sufficient  to  answer  the  requirements  of  the  text,  only  no  one 
has  as  yet  shown  any  ancient  ruins  of  a  synagogue,  or  even  a 
house  on  the  hights  above  the  site  of  the  present  village.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Call  of  Andreiv,  Peter,  James,  and  John.     Capernaum.     Tel 
Hum. 

The  controversy  over  the  site  of  Capernaum  has  almost  spent 
itself  in  debating  the  claims  of  several  places  as  the  true  location 
of  Caphar  Nahum,  which  Rev.  Mr.  Thomson  shows  is  simply 
Arabic  for  Capernaum,  and  Tel  means  a  ruin  where  there  was 
once  a  village.     So  Tel  Hum  is  Kefr  Nahum  and  Capernaum. 

The  picture  shows  a  high  ridge  ending  in  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 
Its  top  is  broad  and  sloping,  and  a  very  fine  site  for  a  village. 
(See  Ruined  Synagogue  at  Capernaum.) 

There  was  no  port  or  harbor  at  this  place,  and  boats  must  of 
necessity  have  been  drawn  ashore  when  not  in  use.  Ships  may 
have  been  anchored.  The  port  and  suburb  of  Capharnauni  were 
at  the  Fountain  of  Capharnaum,  and  they  are  identified  at  what 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  323 

is  called  by  the  Arabs  Tabigah.     (Imp.  eel.,  vol.  i.  j  8vo  ed.,  1890, 
vol.  i.) 

Circuit  in  Galilee.    Plain  of  Buttaup  and  Jebel  Kaukab. 

The  plain  anciently  known  as  Zebulon  is  now  called  Buttauf ; 
and  Jebel  Kaukab  is  at  the  northwest  corner,  from  which  the 
plain  extends  eastward  to  Mount  Hattin  above  Magdala,  and  the 
heights  near  Tiberias.  Cana  is  in  this  region,  whether  it  was 
Kana  el  Jelil  or  Kefr  Kenna;  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is 
located  on  Hattin,  where  also  the  five  thousand  were  fed. 
Naphtali  was  located  on  the  west  and  north  of  the  Sea  of  Gali- 
lee ;  and  within  the  boundaries  of  these  two  tribes,  as  laid  down 
on  the  maps,  the  greater  number  of  the  events  and  years  of  the 
life  of  Jesus  were  passed.  This  is  a  very  pleasant  region,  and 
one  in  which  a  traveler  may  find  something  of  interest  for  each 
day  in  weeks  or  even  months.  In  many  respects  it  is  the  fairest 
in  all  Palestine,  and  the  people  are  inclined  to  be  social  and  hos- 
pitable when  not  excited  by  religious  fanaticism.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Healing  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda.     Siloam. 

The  Pool  of  Bethesda  has  been  sought  for  and  located  in  a 
number  of  places,  and  finally,  i'-,  is  now  believed,  has  been  defi- 
nitely traced  to  its  ancient  site,  —  at  least  to  the  place  described 
by  the  early  Christians  as  the  one  they  accepted  as  the  true  site. 
It  has  been  located  at  Siloam,  the  ruined  pool  at  or  near  the 
junction  of  the  Tyropoeon  and  Kidron  valleys,  and  which  receives 
water  from  the  Fountain  of  the  Virgin  in  an  underground  conduit 
seventeen  hundred  feet  long.  That  "  Fountain  "  has  also  been 
claimed  as  Bethesda.  Another  site  offered  is  the  Sheep  Pool 
outside  of  the  Stephen  Gate,  and  there  is  one  more  in  the  Birket 
Israel  (lake  of  Israel),  just  inside  the  city  walls  and  at  the  north 
end  of  the  Temple  area. 

These  all  were  abandoned  in  favor  of  one  more  recently  pro- 
posed, under  or  near  the  Church  of  Saint  Anne,  which  it  is  be- 
lieved was  called  the  Piscina  Probatica  by  the  Crusaders  and  by 
travelers  in  the  middle  ages ;  but  that  was  laid  aside  when  the 
English  Palestine  Exploration  found  a  large  double  pool  under 
the  convent  of  the  Sisters  of  Zion,  near  the  Ecce  Homo  Arch, 
and  at  the  northeast  angle  of  the  Noble  Sanctuary.    This  pool  is 


324  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

one  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  long,  forty-eight  feet  wide  over 
both  arches,  with  a  stone  pier  five  feet  thick  dividing  it  length- 
wise. 

Eusebius  refers  to  Bethesda  as  the  twin  pools,  and  this  is 
probably  the  one  referred  to  by  him.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Plucking  Grain  on  the  Sabbath.     Plain  of  Maneh  (Maha- 
naim),  in  Bashan,  beyond  Jordan. 

This  is  one  of  the  beautiful  places  on  the  east  of  the  Jordan, 
now  called  the  Hauran,  and  anciently  Bashan.  It  is  on  a  branch 
of  Wadi  el  Heman,  a  tributary  of  the  Jordan  nearly  opposite 
Beisan.  Very  few,  if  any,  remains  of  a  city  such  as  is  referred 
to  in  the  accounts  of  Ishbosheth  and  David  and  Absalom  are 
found  in  that  region,  unless  you  accept  the  ruined  city  Jerash 
as  the  place  of  ancient  Mahanaim. 

The  oaks  of  that  district  are  large  and  gnarled,  and  have 
branches  which  depend  low  enough  to  serve  to  re-enact  the  Ab- 
salom tragedy. 

The  country  is  rich  in  almost  everything  except  in  men  ;  of 
that  product  there  are  many  imitations,  but  very  few  complete 
specimens.  An  effort  is  being  made  at  Es  Salt,  the  ancient 
Ramoth  Gilead,  to  improve  the  condition  of  the  people  by  edu- 
cating the  children  of  both  Christian  and  Mohammedan  families 
in  the  mission  school  there.  The  only  person  in  a  tribe  of  Beda- 
wins  who  were  encamped  near  Heshbon  in  1874  who  could  read 
and  write  was  Sultan,  a  son  of  Ali  Diab  the  younger,  who  had 
been  to  school  at  Es  Salt.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

"  Smoking  flax  shall   he    7iot  quench "    (Isaiah).      Ancient 
Lamp. 

Many  thousands  of  lamps  in  metal,  terra-cotta,  or  glass  have 
been  found  in  ancient  tombs  or  among  the  ruins  of  ancient  tem- 
ples or  houses.  It  was  the  custom  to  bury  one  or  more  lamps 
with  the  dead.  This  one  was  of  copper,  and  ornamented  with 
figures  of  lilies,  —  the  lily  in  its  various  parts,  flower  and  stem, 
forming  the  different  members  of  the  lamp.  On  some  lamps  the 
early  Christians  engraved  or  embossed  figures  or  groups  repre- 
senting their  faith  in  Jesus  the  Christ  and  in  theleading  dogmas 
of  the  Church.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  325 

Teaching  from  a  Ship.  Boats  and  Figures. 
Fishermen  in  plentiful  numbers,  but  very  few  boats,  are  now 
to  be  seen  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The  fleets  described  by 
Josephus  in  his  acco\int  of  the  Jewish  wars  have  disappeared, 
and  left  none  in  their  places.  A  great  many  kinds  of  fish  are 
taken  from  the  sea,  and  some  of  them  are  so  much  like  some  that 
frequent  the  river  Nile  that  it  was  once  supposed  that  there  was 
an  underground  passage  from  this  sea  to  that  river.  No  such 
passage  exists.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Sermon  on  the  Mount .     Kurun  Hattin. 

Kurun  Hattin  (Horns  of  Hattin)  is  the  chief  hight  in  the 
reo-ion  west  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The  plain  on  which  it  stands 
is  easily  accessible,  and  from  that  to  the  summit  is  but  a  few 
minutes'  easy  walk. 

This  little  mountain  has  been  noted  for  several  historic  events 
since  Bible  times,  one  of  the  most  important  of  which  was  the  bat- 
tle between  the  Saracens  under  Saladin  and  the  Christians  under 
Raymond,  Count  of  Tripoli,  July  5,  1187.  The  Christians  were 
defeated,  and  Palestine  has  been  ruled  by  Mohammedans  ever 
since. 

A  little  village  stands  on  the  east  slope  overlooking  the  sea, 
and  beyond  the  waters  the  hill  country  of  Golan  and  the  moun- 
tain range  of  Anti-Lebanon. 

Our  view  is  north  a  little  east,  over  Galilee  and  the  sites  of 
Capernaum,  Bethsaida,  Chorazin,  and  Safed  to  Mount  Hermon, 
which  is  the  snowy  summit. 

The  two  summits  —  one  to  the  left,  wooded  to  the  top  as  it  was 
when  the  Crusaders  were  defeated  there,  and  the  other  towards 
the  right,  lower  —  are  the  two  "  horns."  It  is  related  in  ecclesi- 
astical tradition  that  the  multitude  heard  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  while  Jesus  sat  on  a  certain  stone,  which  is  pointed  out 
by  the  monks  on  the  southeast  slope,  which  shows  light  in  the 
picture  over  the  house  and  large  tree,  while  the  multitude  stood 
below.  Seven  other  smaller  stones  lower  down  on  the  slope  are 
said  to  mark  the  spot  where  the  five  thousand  were  fed. 

The  tradition  that  locates  this  incident  at  Kurun  Hattin  is 
traced  to  the  monks  of  the  thirteenth  century  ;  but  it  has  never 
been  disputed,  because  no  other  equally  eligible  locality  has  been 
proposed. 


326  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

About  half-way  between  the  village  of  Hattin  and  the  sea  is  a 
ruin  called  Irbid,  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  ancient  Arbela. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

"  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field.'"     Liltum  Chalcedonicum. 

Palestine  is  a  land  of  flowers,  and  lilies  of  many  kinds  are 
abundant.  This  one  is  red,  as  were  the  lips  of  the  beloved  of 
Solomon ;  grows  quickly,  as  is  implied  in  Hosea,  in  the  valleys, 
among  thorn}^  shrubs,  and  in  plains  where  gazelles  feed ;  and  is 
cultivated  in  gardens,  as  referred  to  in  twenty  texts  in  eight 
books  of  the  Bible. 

Iris,  Narcissus,  Gladiolus,  Ixolirion,  Amaryllis,  Hyacinth, 
Scilla,  Fritillaria,  Star  of  Bethlehem  Tulip,  Pheasant's  Eye, 
Eanunculus,  and  the  glorious  Anemone,  all  grow  in  profusion; 
but  the  last-named  more  fully  answers  to  the  text  in  Matthew 
than  any  of  the  other  flowers.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

*'  For   every   tree   is  hnoivn   hy  its  fruits.^'      Bramble    and 
Thorn. 

The  Eubus  fruticosus  (blackberry),  Lycium  horridum  (box- 
thorn),  and  sixteen  other  varieties  of  thorns  or  thorny  shrubs 
are  mentioned  in  the  Bible,  in  more  than  forty  texts ;  and  they 
were  translated  bramble,  brier,  thorn,  thistle,  and  pricks,  without 
discrimination  as  to  variety.  I  saw  a  fence  of  thorny  bushes  at 
Er  Riha  (Jericho)  which  was  equal  or  superior  to  any  barbed 
wire,  for  it  was  massive  in  hight  and  width.  "  They  grow  and 
live  for  ages."     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

"  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air^     The  Bulbtjl, 

Ixus  Xanthopygias,  the  nightingale  of  the  East.  Thirty-eight 
kinds  of  birds  are  mentioned  in  the  Bible  text ;  and  ''  fowl,"  mean- 
ing "  birds,"  occurs  over  eighty  times.  Palestine  is  alive  with 
birds  everywhere.  In  the  deep,  narrow  ravines  they  gather  in 
countless  numbers,  and  every  bush  and  tree  throughout  the  land 
is  vocal.  Many  small  birds  are  trapped  in  great  numbers  and 
sold  for  food.  This  Bulbul  is  an  Oriental  of  the  far  East,  and 
only  a  visitor  to  Palestine,  where  it  is  welcome  for  its  very  musi- 
cal voice.  They  are  easily  tamed,  and  become  very  docile,  and 
learn  many  little  tricks.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  327 

Street  Scene.     El  Wadi,  the  Valley,  Jerusalem. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  traditional  Via  Dolorosa  (the  Way  of 
Sorrow),  along  which  it  is  said  Jesus  bore  the  cross  from  Pilate's 
judgment  hall  to  Calvary.  The  Latin  monks  say  this  arch  over 
the  street  is  the  one  from  which,  at  the  square  window,  Jesus 
was  shown  to  the  multitude,  and  therefore  it  is  called  the  Ecce 
Homo  (Behold  the  Man)  Arch.  This  street  leads  from  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  Church  east,  by  several  turnings,  to  the  Stephen  Gate, 
and  is  the  most  traveled  of  any  in  the  city.  The  roadway  itself 
has  been  raised  many  feet  (twenty  to  fifty)  during  the  last  eigh- 
teen hundred  years,  and  the  buildings  along  it  are  not  older 
than  the  Crusades,  if  as  old ;  but  the  general  direction  of  the 
street  from  the  gate  to  the  midst  of  the  city  has  probably  not 
changed  very  much.  All  nations  under  the  sun,  with  few  excep- 
tions, may  be  met  in  its  dark,  narrow,  dirty  way  during  Easter 
week.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Raising    the     Widoiv's    Son.      Nain    and    Jebel    ed    Duhy 
(Little  Hermon). 

Jebel  ed  Duhy  is  said  to  be  the  ancient  Hill  of  Moreh,  and  it  is 
not  doubted  that  the  present  village  of  Nain  is  on  the  ancient 
site.  The  same  path  leads  up  the  slope  that  has  been  in  use 
thousands  of  years,  and  the  rock  near  is  full  of  sepulchres.  The 
ground  slopes  westward  into  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon,  above  which 
the  village  is  perched  over  four  hundred  feet ;  and  the  water 
from  the  large  fountain  runs  down  into  the  head-waters  of  the 
Kishon.  The  view  from  the  high  ground  behind  the  village  in- 
cludes Mount  Tabor  to  the  north,  and  Mount  Lebanon  beyond. 
Mount  Carmel  and  the  Mediterranean  Sea  to  the  west,  and  the 
hills  of  Samaria  towards  the  south.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Chorazin  and  Bethsaida.    View  near  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan 
on  the  Lake  op  Galilee. 

The  location  of  these  two  places  —  or  rather  three,  for  Bethsaida 
was  a  double  place  ;  that  is,  a  village  of  the  same  name  on  each 
side  of  the  Jordan  —  has  been  until  recently  a  puzzle.  The  site 
of  the  eastern  city  is  now  called  Tel  Julias  ;  that  of  the  western 
is  not  located,  and  it  may  be  that  it  was  near  the  modern  Abu 
Zane.     Chorazin  is  identified  with  a  niin  called  by  the  Arabs 


328  DESCRIPTION  OF   TTIE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Kerazeh,  about  two  miles  northeast  of  Tel  Hum,  and  the  same 
distance  from  the  entrance  of  the  Jordan  into  the  lake.  The 
scenery  in-  that  section  is  hilly  and  beautiful,  and  in  the  rainy 
season  the  fields  where  not  cultivated  are  gorgeous  with  flowers. 

The  ruins  cover  nearly  half  a  scjuare  mile,  and  are  on  a  hill 
and  a  level  field  below ;  on  both  sides  is  a  deep  ravine  with  a 
brook. 

Pococke,  in  1740,  heard  from  Arabs  the  name  Kerazeh,  or 
Gerasi,  and  identified  it  as  the  ancient  Chorazin ;  and  since  theu 
it  has  been  visited  by  many  travelers ;  but  no  one  had  examined 
it  before  the  Palestine  Exploration  saw  it  a  few  years  since. 

The  Sea  of  Galilee  can  be  seen  from  it  in  its  whole  extent. 
Its  ruins  comprise  Corinthian  capitals,  niche  heads  finely  cut,  and 
many  other  architectural  ornaments  in  hard  stone  (black  basalt). 
Many  dwellings  are  in  good  condition.  They  are  usually  square. 
One  measured  thirty  feet,  with  columns  in  the  centre  to  support 
the  roof.  The  walls  are  two  feet  thick,  of  basalt,  and  will  stand 
one  thousand  years  longer,  and  have  probably  stood  two  thousand 
years  already.  Each  house  has  windows  twelve  inches  high  and 
six  and  a  half  inches  wide.  Some  houses  are  divided  into  four 
rooms. 

A  copious  spring  flows  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  and  is  con- 
ducted down  into  Wadi  Tel  Hum.  Two  tombs  of  Bedawin 
Shayks  stand  near  it,  hung  with  thousands  of  rags  of  many 
colors.  Some  Ionic  capitals  lie  on  the  heaps  not  far  from  the 
spring.  A  paved  Roman  road  from  Tel  Hum  to  Damascus  passed 
Chorazin.  A  ruin  in  the  northwest  of  the  site  is  supposed  to  be 
of  an  ancient  synagogue.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Jesus  hy  the  Sea.     The  Fountain  at  Tabiga. 

The  Arab  Dhaher  el-Arar  not  long  ago  built  several  mills 
and  tanneries  (Arabic  dahbaga  =  tannery)  at  this  place  on  ac- 
count of  the  abundance  of  water,  and  they  were  resorted  to  by  a 
wide  range  of  neighborhood.  It  is  likely  that  this  place  was  the 
manufacturing  suburb  of  Capernaum  ;  and  the  many  ruins  of 
houses  scattered  along  the  shore  between  here  and  Tel  Hum  evi- 
dence that  in  some  former  age  the  village  was  almost  continuous, 
—  perhaps  from  Capernaum  to  this  Tabiga,  which  may  have  been 
the  Fountain  of  Capernaum  mentioned  by  Josephus.     It  is  the 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  329 

second  in  size  in  all  Palestine,  and  next  to  that  at  Paneas.  Hero 
are  cisterns  for  storing  and  elevating  water,  and  the  canal  cut  in 
the  rock  around  the  cliff  to  the  plain  of  Gennesaret  for  irrigation, 
as  described  by  Josephus. 

The  water  of  the  five  fountains  at  Tabiga  is  warm  and  salty, 
and  unfit  for  drinking.  This  fountain  was  mentioned  in  1598  by 
Cotovicus  and  again  by  Burckhardt,  but  there  is  no  mention  of  it 
before  the  Arab  occupation  by  this  name. 

The  fountain  called  Ain  el-Mudauwarah  (Round  Fountain)  is  at 
the  lower  end  of  Wadi  er-Rubudiyeh ;  and  its  water  is  carried 
along  the  hillside  to  water  the  southern  part  of  the  plain.  The 
fountain  is  inclosed  by  a  strong  circular  wall  of  masonry  a  hun- 
dred feet  in  diameter.  The  water  is  sweet,  and  forms  a  large, 
rapid  stream.  It  has  been  thought  this  was  the  fountain  of 
Capernaum  of  Josephus ;  but  there  are  no  ruins  near  it  to  mark 
the  site  of  a  village,  as  there  must  have  been  if  it  is  the  true 
site. 

Anywhere  along  the  shore  here  from  Mejdel  (Magdala),  Wadi 
Humam,  Er-Rubudiyeh  (except  at  Khan  Minyeh),  Tabiga,  Tel 
Hum,  or  Abu  Zane,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan,  there  are  many 
places  where  a  boat  could  have  been  drawn  ashore  and  a  speaker 
address  a  crowd  on  shore  from  its  deck.  Tabiga  is  nearest  to 
Tel  Hum  ;  and  if  that  is  Capernaum,  then  Tabiga  is  the  fountain 
of  Kapharnaum  mentioned  by  Josephus. 

The  bay  at  Tabiga  is  half  a  mile  across,  and  its  southwestern 
side  is  closed  in  by  the  hill  at  Khan  Minyeh,  and  there  the  rocks 
come  close  to  the  water  and  rise  so  steep  and  high  that  no  one 
can  walk  there  by  the  water.  Beyond  that  one  may  walk  on 
the  shore  all  the  way  to  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan. 

The  main  spring  at  Tabiga  is  inclosed  in  a  strong  octagonal 
wall  of  solid  masonry,  about  twenty  feet  high  above  the  level, 
from  which  the  water  is  carried  in  an  aqueduct  to  the  mills. 
This  aqueduct  was  laid  along  the  side  of  the  hill  and  across  two 
brooks  on  high  arches,  —  the  piers  of  which  yet  stand,  —  and 
finally  passes  round  the  Khan  Minyeh  cliff  in  a  passage  cut  in 
the  rock,  and  so  into  the  Plain  of  Gennesavet.  It  may  have  been 
carried  around  the  head  of  the  plain  near  the  hills,  and  so  irri- 
gated the  entire  district. 

The  Khan  Minyeh  itself  is  the  usual  Arab  inn,  now  ruinous 
but  not  entirely  deserted.     It  was  built  as  a  halting-place  for 


330  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Damascus  caravans,  and  in  or  before  the  twelfth  century,  for  it 
is  mentioned  in  the  Life  of  Saladin  by  Boha-eddin. 

West  of  the  spring  at  Khan  IMinyeh  are  a  small  number  of 
heaps  of  ruined  houses,  covering  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in 
extent,  without  any  building  of  large  size.  It  was  probably  a 
modern  Arab  village,  for  no  capitals  or  columns  have  been  found. 
Above  the  hill  are  other  ruins  of  small  size.  A  mile  north  above 
Tabiga  is  Khirbet  Khuraybeh,  with  a  few  walls,  door-posts, 
lintels,  and  fragments  of  basalt.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Mustard  (Matt.  xiii.  31). 

Scholars  differ  greatly  as  to  which  one  of  a  dozen  or  more 
plants  was  the  one  referred  to  in  the  Gospels,  which  in  the  Greek 
text  is  sinape.  Our  Sinapis  Nigra  answers  the  requirements  of 
the  text,  and  is  cultivated  now  in  many  parts  of  the  country. 
Large  fields  of  its  bright  lemon-yellow  blossoms  enliven  the  land- 
scape and  enrich  the  fellah.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Parable  of  the  Sower  (Matt.  xiii.).     Butaiha  Plain. 

This  plain  is  a  duplicate  of  Gennesaret,  only  it  is  smaller.  It 
is  watered  by  many  springs  and  streams.  The  soil  is  basaltic 
and  is  rich,  and  the  crops  of  all  sorts  of  garden  stuff  the  earliest 
in  Palestine  by  about  a  month. 

No  ruins  of  any  importance  have  been  found,  not  even  except- 
ing Tel  Julias,  which  is  on  its  west  side ;  for  that  place  must 
have  been  very  much  magnified  by  Josephus,  since  in  size  and 
notable  ruins  its  glory  has  departed.  The  plain  is  only  two  and 
a  half  miles  long  by  one  and  a  half  wide.  There  are  no  gravel 
or  shell  beaches  here,  as  on  the  shore  of  Gennesaret.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  i.) 

Circuit  in  G-alilee  ivith  the  Twelve.  Mount  Hermon  from 
Hazor. 
Hazor  is  one  of  the  noted  places  in  the  north,  near  Lake 
Huleh.  Jabin  lived  and  reigned  there,  and  Joshua  destroyed  it 
(Josh.  xi.  5-11).  Ruined  foundations,  heaps  of  fallen  walls, 
wells,  and  cisterns  are  scattered  over  a  narrow  valley  and  far  up 
on  the  hillside  to  the  south.  The  Moliammedans  have  made  a 
mazar  (shrine)  of  a  large  natural  cave  to  which  they  have  built 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  331 

an  arched  front,  where  they  houor  Neby  Hazur  ( ! ).  The  region 
is  hilly  and  must  have  been  very  salubrious,  and  it  is  beautiful  in 
scenery  now,  only  lacking  in  villages,  —  for  it  would  sustain  a 
hundred-fold  its  present  inhabitants. 

Mount  Hermon  is  partly  hidden  from  this  point  by  hills ;  but 
it  is  grand  and  beautiful  still,  especially  when,  as  represented  in 
the  engraving,  the  morning  clouds  float  across  its  blue  and  gold 
mass,  while  its  snowy  peaks  are  warmed  into  saffron  and  lavender 
tints  by  the  rising  sun.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Five  Thousand  fed.     View  between  Safed  and  Tel  Julias. 

So  many  ancient,  mediaeval,  and  modern  writers  agree  in  lo- 
cating Capernaum  at  or  near  Tel  Hum,  that  we  may  reckon  from 
it  to  other  places.  Eusebius  and  Jerome  say  that  the  three  cities, 
Capernaum,  Chorazin,  and  Bethsaida,  were  on  the  west  (north- 
west) shore  of  the  sea,  and  Jerome  makes  it  two  miles  from 
Capernaum  to  Chorazin.  That  is  exactly  the  distance  from  Tel 
Hum  to  the  ruined  site  called  Kerazeh,  and  it  is  about  two  miles 
to  the  site  of  Bethsaida,  as  located  at  Abu  Zane  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Jordan. 

Safed  is  on  a  high,  sharply  rounded  hill  or  ridge  which  lies 
southwest,  highest  to  the  north,  where  the  Gothic  castle  stands. 
The  city  is  divided  into  three  districts  or  elevations  by  the  in- 
equalities of  the  ground,  one  of  which,  on  the  west  side,  is  the 
Jews'  quarter.  It  once  had  nine  thousand  people  of  all  sorts. 
Safed  is  one  of  the  holy  places  of  the  Jews  in  Galilee,  and  has 
been  so  for  many  centuries.  It  has  seven  or  more  synagogues, 
and  their  printing-office  dates  from  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
city  was  destroyed  in  1836  by  an  earthquake,  as  it  had  been 
before  in  1759. 

The  first  mention  of  Safed  was  by  Jerome  in  the  Latin  Vulgate 
in  describing  the  native  place  of  Tobit.  Modern  ecclesiastical 
tradition  has  located  Bethulia  at  Safed,  but  that  ideal  city  is  now 
identified  in  the  site  a  few  miles  north  of  Samaria.  It  has  been 
often  proposed  as  the  "city  set  on  a  hill"  alluded  to  in  the  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount,  and  the  mountain  has  been  said  to  be  the  one 
on  which  Jesus  was  transfigured.  As  a  military  precaution,  the 
walls  of  the  castle  at  Safed  were  demolished  by  order  of  Sultan 
Melek  el-Muadh-dhem  of  Damascus,  who  also  for  the  same  reason 


332  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

threw  down  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  and  of  Panias  and  Tibnin. 
Safed  Castle  was  rebuilt  by  the  Templars  in  1240,  and  greatly 
strengthened  by  Sultan  Bibars,  who  had  taken  it  from  the  Tem- 
plars in  12GG. 

Safed  was  made  famous  by  a  Jewish  school  of  learning  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  a  Spanish  Kabbi,  Jacob  Be-Rab,  who  was 
chief  Rabbi  in  Fez  in  Morocco,  became  a  celebrated  writer  and 
teacher  there.  He  died  a.  d.  1541.  A  long  list  of  learned  Rabbis 
follow  his  name  down  to  Moses  Alsheikh,  1601,  all  of  whose 
writings  are  held  in  great  esteem  by  Jews  of  all  countries.  A 
century  later,  Nau,  a  Jewish  traveler,  described  the  city  as  a 
second  Jerusalem,  and  contributions  to  sustain  their  synagogues 
and  schools  came  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  as  they  do  now  to 
Jerusalem,  Safed  having  fallen  into  decay  from  Mohammedan 
oppression. 

The  hill  on  which  Safed  stands,  and  the  two  hills  north  of  it 
are  nearly  as  high  as  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  they  are  tlie 
highest  points  in  Galilee. 

The  views  on  every  side  are  extensive,  except  on  the  north. 
Our  view  is  near  the  base  of  one  of  these  hills  north  of  Safed. 
The  country  is  romantic  and  beautiful,  rich  in  pasture,  fruitful 
in  all  that  man  can  wish  for  in  garden  or  in  field  or  in  orchard, 
but  very  sparsely  peopled,  because  of  high  taxes  and  wild  Beda- 
wins.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Ancient  Glass  Vessel. 

Found  by  the  Palestine  Exploration  under  Lieut,  (now  Captain) 
Charles  Warren,  R.  E.,  1868,  at  Jerusalem,  nearly  fifty  feet  below 
the  surface,  among  ancient  broken  pottery  and  other  rubbish. 

The  lamps  found  at  Jerusalem  by  the  same  party  are  in  pot- 
tery, glass,  and  copper.  Some  of  them  are  very  beautiful  in 
form,  material,  and  decoration.  This  one  has  several  figures  of 
the  Lily  of  Chalcedon,  stems  and  flowers. 

Mohammedans  are  very  proud  of  their  mosk  lamps,  and  make 
them  very  costly  in  finely  wrought  material  and  in  elaborate 
decoration.  Such  lamps  may  have  been  used  in  the  Jewish 
synagogues,  but  if  so  they  were  too  fragile  and  have  perished. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  333 

Journey  to  Tyre  and  Sidon.     The  Ladder   of  Tyre  (Pro- 
montorium  album). 

Coast  scene  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  at  the  north  end  of  the 
"  Ladder  of  Tyre."  A  narrow  road  is  cut  in  the  face  of  the  rocky- 
promontory,  about  two  hundred  feet  above  the  water,  and  about 
a  mile  long.  The  work  is  credited  to  Alexander  the  Great  during 
his  long  siege  of  Tyre,  but  as  yet  no  inscription  has  been  found 
with  any  name. 

The  similar  road  over  the  face  of  the  cliffs  at  Dog  River  (Xahr 
el  Kelb),  near  Beirut,  has  inscriptions  in  Persian,  Greek,  Latin, 
and  Arabic,  and  it  may  be  that  careful  search  will  discover 
records  of  builder  or  repairer  of  this  road  in  some  remote  age. 
At  the  north  end  of  the  pass  a  ruined  tower  or  fort  is  evidence 
that  the  Crusaders  or  some  former  power  —  perhaps  the  Roman  — 
valued  and  defended  this  road.  It  is  a  dizzy  path,  and  not  at  all 
pleasant  in  rainy,  slippery,  windy  weather.  At  the  southwest 
end  of  the  pass  the  road  turns  south  for  a  mile,  to  the  ruins  of 
Scanderoon,  the  Alexandroschene  of  the  ancients ;  but  the  place 
has  no  ruin  of  an  earlier  age  than  that  of  the  Crusades.  The 
Rabbins  in  the  Talmud  call  this  place  Sulraa  Dezur. 

If  the  journey  to  Tyre  and  Sidon  was  begun  at  Capernaum,  the 
route  may  have  been  through  the  Plain  of  Geunesaret,  up  the 
Wadi  Leimun  to  Meroz  west  of  Safed,  —  if  not  to  Safed,  —  to 
El  Jish,  Yaron,  Hazor,.Bint  Jebail,  Ainatha,  Haris  or  Tibnin, 
Kanah,  and  then  perhaps  by  the  Tomb  of  Hiram,  down  to  Tyre  ; 
from  Tyre  along  the  coast  to  Sidon.  Returning  by  the  coast  to 
Acre  and  Carmel,  he  would  have  passed  over  the  road  cut  in  the 
face  of  the  rocks  shown  in  our  picture. 

This  is  in  some  parts  a  wildly  romantic  road  to-day,  and  must 
have  been  much  more  attractive  when* the  countr}^  was  filled  with 
villages  and  people,  as  it  must  have  been  in  the  time  of  the 
Roman  occupation. 

The  cliffs  of  this  "Ladder"  are  formed  of  white,  hard  marl,  or 
a  chalky  limestone,  sandwiched  between  strata  of  dark  flint. 
The  water  washes  the  soft  limestone  out  from  the  bottom,  and 
from  time  to  time  a  huge  mass  tumbles  into  the  sea,  where  it  is 
ground  into  fine  sand  and  carried  by  the  currents,  or  waves  driven 
by  high  winds,  and  washed  ashore  all  along  from  here  to  Alex- 
andretta.     At  Beirut  the  sand  is  only  kept  from  making  a  desert 


334  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  KSG RAVINGS. 

of  the  whole  district  by  planting  evergreens  as  a  fence,  which 
forms  a  barrier. 

The  geology  of  the  district  east  of  the  "  Ladder  "  is  interesting 
for  the  fine  specimens  for  cabinets  found  there.  The  choicest 
are  geodes  of  large  size  with  dog-tooth  spar.  So-called  petrified 
olives  are  abundant. 

Of  tlie  three  lieadlands  on  this  coast,  the  first  is  the  "  Ladder  " 
of  our  engraving  ;  the  second  is  Ras  en  Nakura,  and  the  third 
Ras  el  Musheirifeh,  tha  highest  of  all,  and  is  the  white  peak  in 
the  centre  of  the  picture.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Syrophoenician  Woman.     Old  Tyre. 

Old  Tyre  has  almost  disappeared.  It  was  on  the  mainland, 
and  the  younger  city  was  on  an  island  until  Alexander  the  Great 
built  a  causeway  out  from  the  shore  to  the  island  for  his  army  to 
capture  the  place ;  since  then  Tyre  has  stood  on  a  peninsula. 
The  old  city,  and  perhaps  also  the  new,  was  supplied  with  water 
by  an  aqueduct  from  four  large  fountains  about  three  miles  from 
the  city,  south.  The  fountains  are  walled  in  by  very  thick  and 
strong  masonry,  wide  enough  at  the  top  for  four  or  five  to  walk 
abreast.  They  were  all  connected  at  first,  and  drained  by  the 
aqueduct;  but  the  masonry  has  fallen  between  the  second  and 
third  (the  largest),  and  now  only  two  are  connected  with  the 
aqueduct.  The  channel  of  the  aqueduct  is  four  feet  wide  and 
three  deep.  The  arches  of  the  aqueduct  are  round,  with  a  cor- 
nice above,  and  evidently  Roman  in  origin.  Diodorus  says  the 
city  on  the  main  land  was  old  in  his  day  (CO  b.  c),  and  tradition 
says  Solomon  built  the  pools  and  the  aqueduct.  Of  course  it  was 
built  by  some  Greek  or  Roman  ruler.  Solomon  is  always  credited 
with  every  public  work  that  is  in  any  wise  above  the  common- 
place, which  is  only  a  lazy  way  of  saying  no  one  knows  who  did 
the  work. 

Two  of  the  pools  are  fifty -two  by  forty-seven  and  fifty-two  by 
thirty-six  feet,  with  walls  more  than  twenty  feet  thick  at  the 
bottom  and  twelve  at  the  top.  The  third  pool  is  octagonal,  and 
eighty  feet  in  diameter.  The  water  is  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  deep 
in  all.  The  water  from  the  large  pool  is  now  used  to  drive  some 
mills. 

The  fourth  fountain  and  pool  is  smaller,  and  has  a  modern 
aqueduct  which  supplies  water  for  irrigation. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  335 

The  water  is  sweet,  but  impregnated  with  lime  so  much  that 
at  every  leak  in  the  aqueduct  stalactites  have  been  formed. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Deaf  and  Dumb  healed.     Magdala. 

View  of  Mejdel  from  the  north.  The  name  is  Arabic,  and  is 
the  equivalent  of  the  Hebrew  Migdol,  and  the  Greek  Magdala. 
Mark  (viii.  10)  says  Dalmanutha  in  place  of  this  town;  but  no  site 
called  by  any  name  that  could  be  translated  into  that  word  has 
been  found  in  this  century. 

The  village  consists  of  a  few  modern  houses  without  a  trace  of 
ancient  remains. 

Nearly  two  miles  west  of  Mejdel,  in  a  perpendicular  cliff  of 
Wadi  Hamam,  are  the  remains  of  a  castle  which  was  once  a  very 
strong  place.  Two  sides  of  a  triangle  are  of  solid  rock,  perpen- 
dicular ;  and  on  the  third  massive  walls  are  built  very  high,  cut- 
ting off  approach  from  the  main  cliff. 

There  are  many  natural  caves  in  this  valley,  in  which  monks 
have  in  former  times  made  a  dwelling.  Some  of  these  were  con- 
nected by  galleries  cut  in  the  rocky  face  of  the  cliff.  See  Jose- 
phus,  Ant.  xii.  11,  1,  and  1  Maccabees  ix.  2,  who  calls  them  the 
caverns  of  Arbela.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Four  Thousand  fed.     Mount  Hermon. 

This  event  is  located  in  the  Decapolis,  east  of  the  Jordan ;  and 
Mount  Hermon  can  be  seen  from  every  one  of  the  ten  sites  men- 
tioned, so  far  as  they  have  been  determined  in  our  day.  The  names 
of  the  ten  were  :  Scythopolis,  Hippos,  Gadara,  Pella,  Philadelphia, 
Gerasa,  Dion,  Canatha,  Damascus,  and  Eaphana.  Ptolemy  says 
Capitolias  was  one  of  the  ten  ;  and  an  inscription  at  Palmyra 
includes  Abila.  One  of  the  ten,  Scythopolis,  now  Beisan  (Beth 
Shan),  was  on  the  west  shore  of  Jordan. 

According  to  Josephus,  Damascus  must  be  omitted  from  the 
ten ;  and  so  Abila  might  be  included,  as  said  in  the  Palmyrene 
tablet.  Scythopolis,  Gadara,  and  Canatha  each  have  a  few  houses 
and  people  ;  but  all  the  others  are  ruined  and  deserted. 

This  view  of  Mount  Hermon  (called  by  the  Arabs  Jebel  esh 
Shayk,  by  way  of  distinction)  is  the  best.  From  all  other  points 
of  the  compass  the  waters  of  Lake  Huleh  are  wanting,  and  no 
others  supply  their  place  so  well. 


336  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Huleh,  both  lake  and  plain,  is  well  worth  a  visit  by  the 
traveler.  The  plain  is  seen  to  best  advantage  in  the  season  of 
harvest, —  that  is,  in  the  spring,  before  the  summer  heat  has 
dried  up  the  herbage  and  thrown  a  gray  and  brown  mantle  over 
the  earth.  And  the  finest  effects  are  had  in  the  morning,  when 
the  fog-clouds  rise  from  the  water  and  are  illuminated  by  the 
rising  sun.  Then  the  snowy  cap  of  Hermon  is  warm-tinted,  and 
the  shadows  are  a  delicate  greenish  blue  and  pale  purple,  streaked 
with  golden  and  ruby  lights.  The  mass  of  the  mountain,  in  deep 
gray  of  purples  and  greens  and  browns,  almost  seems  floating 
above  the  water  and  the  fog-clouds. 

The  marsh  at  the  north  end  of  Huleh  is  filled  with  babeer  cane 
and  papyrus,  through  which  the  river  makes  a  lazy  crawl,  only  to 
hurry  all  the  more  down  the  rapids  over  basalt  ledges  six  miles 
to  the  Sea  of  Galilee  o 

The  Arabs  have  named  Mount  Hermon  Jebel  esh  Shayk  with 
great  propriety.  It  is  chief  among  the  mountains  in  all  Syria  for 
beauty  and  grandeur,  and  it  is  first  also  in  the  objects  of  study  it 
supplies  to  the  archaeologist.  On  one  of  its  three  summits  the 
Phoenicians  built  a  small  temple,  and  surrouTided  it  with  walls  of 
massive  stone.  On  all  sides  of  Hermon,  lower  down,  on  almost 
every  spur  there  are  ruins  of  temples,  every  one  facing  the  temple 
on  the  summit.  It  has  been  supposed  that  the  worship  of  Baal 
was  the  cult  which  called  these  temples  into  being.  Whatever 
the  god  or  his  worship,  the  idea  of  such  a  grand  circle  of  shrines 
around  so  sublime  a  centre  was  a  brilliant  one,  worthy  of  the 
people  who  gave  letters  to  the  Greeks  and  ships  to  all  civilized 
mankind. 

Standing  on  Hermon  with  a  good  glass,  one  may  see  all  Pales- 
tine to  the  south  end  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  the  hills  or  mountain 
near  Hebron,  and  north  to  Lebanon.  Eastward  the  eye  is  be- 
wildered among  the  unknown  wilds  of  the  Arabian  desert  between 
the  Jordan  or  Moab  and  the  Persian  Gulf.  With  a  good  map  in 
hand  you  can  pick  out  every  mountain,  hill,  valley,  and  principal 
city  or  town  in  the  land  from  the  Baal  temple.  If  that  was  one 
of  the  "  high  "  places,  it  certainly  was  a  useful  one,  "and  must 
have  very  largely  taken  the  place  of  the  modern  symbol  of  the 
"  all-seeing  eye  "  to  the  ancient  Baal  worshippers  in  the  region 
round  about  Hermon.  The  Phoenician  name  of  the  mountain 
was  Sirion,  which  means  "shining  as  polished  metal."     It  is  also 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  337 

known  among  Arabs  as  the  Snow  Mountain  (Jebel  eth  Thelj). 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  li. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Ccesarea  PhilippL     Panias. 

Close  under  the  southwestern  spur  of  Mount  Hermon,  in  fhe 
innermost  angle  of  a  terrace  that  rises  five  hundred  feet  above 
the  plain,  is  a  cave,  from  which  the  Jordan  flows  a  full-sized  river 
at  the  start. 

Such  a  place  was  a  great  treasure  to  the  priest  in  all  ages  ;  and 
the  rocks  are  cut  full  of  shrines  around  the  spring.  As  a  brook 
it  is  many  times  the  volume  of  the  Greek  Castalian  or  the  rill  at 
Delphi. 

Phoenician,  Hebrew,  Christian,  and  Mohammedan  have  resorted 
there,  each  moved  by  his  own  peculiar  aspirations  and  hopes. 

The  city  of  Caisarea  Philippi  —  built  by  Herod,  the  great  build- 
ing king  of  the  Jews  —  was  near  this  fountain,  and  its  ruins  are  in 
heaps  there  now.  One  may  trace  the  theatre  where  Titus  after 
he  captured  the  city  of  Jerusalem  held  a  great  show  and  festival, 
in  which  Jews-  were  made  to  fight  with  gladiators  and  wild  beasts, 
and  also  the  temple  of  white  marble  built  by  Herod. 

Near  Panias  some  large  oaks  and  other  trees  form  considerable 
forests. 

The  Transfiguration  of  Jesus  is  located  at  Panias  by  many 
writers,  and  by  others  on  Mount  Hermon  and  on  Mount  Tabor. 
Hermon's  snowy  peaks  are  seen  in  our  engraving  about  six  miles 
away.  This  view  is  the  nearest  of  the  four  views  we  have  en- 
graved of  Mount  Hermon,  and  too  near  for  the  full  effect  of  the 
mountain,  which  appears  to  much  greater  advantage  when  seen 
from  afar,  as  in  the  view  from  the  west  side  of  Lake  Huleh. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

The  Transfiguration.     Mount  Tabor. 

The  view  is  from  near  the  Inn  of  the  Merchants  (in  Arabic, 
Khan  et-Tujar).  The  Arabs  name  this  mountain  Jebel  Tur 
(toor). 

It  is  eighteen  hundred  and  forty-three  feet  high,  —  nearly  the 

same  elevation  as  Mount  Carmel  (eighteen  hundred  and  ten)  ; 

and  as  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon  at  its  foot  is  three  hundred  feet 

above  the  sea-level,  the  mountain  stands  fifteen  hundred  feet  clear 

VOL.  II.  —  22 


338  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

above  the  i)lain.  Standing  with  the  back  towards  Nazareth, 
we  look  south  at  Mount  Tabor,  and  in  that  view  its  outline  is 
nearl)^  a  semi-circle.  East  and  west  it  is  more  abrupt  in  its 
curves. 

The  traveler  may  see  both  the  Sea  of  Galilee  and  the  Mediter- 
ranean from  Tabor,  near  the  summit ;  but  the  Dead  Sea  is  hidden 
by  the  IVIountains  of  Ephraim  and  the  Quarantana  and  other  hights 
near  Jericho.  Central  Palestine  is  seen  like  a  map ;  and  Esdrae- 
lon  is  very  distinct,  every  silvery  thread  of  river  or  brook  being 
traceable  throughout.  Tabor  is  on  the  watershed  between  the  two 
seas.  The  summit  has  been  fortified ;  and  ruined  walls  show  how 
much  labor  and  care  was  bestowed  on  such  a  rare  site  for  either 
fort  or  temple.  The  Crusaders  did  not  neglect  Tabor,  as  their 
works  show.  A  few  years  since,  in  clearing  away  the  heaps  of 
ruins  and  rubbish  before  laying  the  foundations  for  a  Greek  con- 
vent and  church  (of  the  Transfiguration),  the  ancient  walls  of 
two  or  three  buildings,  which  crossed  over  each  other  at  different 
angles,  were  uncovered. 

The  remains  of  former  buildings  on  the  summit  are  of  a  fort  of 
Saracenic  work,  which  was  made  of  older  material,  not  now  iden- 
tifiable with  any  ancient  work,  although  it  is  said  a  fortified  city 
once  occupied  the  summit. 

The  tradition  that  this  was  the  scene  of  the  Transfiguration  is 
traced  no  farther  back  than  to  Cyril  and  Jerome.  In  their  day 
there  was  no  church  on  Tabor. 

The  Transfiguration  was  located  on  one  of  the  summits  of 
Olivet,  near  Jerusalem,  in  the  time  of  the  Bordeaux  Pilgrim.  See 
engraving.  Olivet  near  Bethany.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

"  And  thou,  Capernaum,  which  art  exalted  to  heaven,  shall  be 
thrust  down  to  hell^  (Luke  x.  15.)  Tel  Hum,  looking 
south  over  the  Sea  of  Galilee  toward  Tiberias  on  the  right 
and  the  country  of  the  Gadarencs  on  the  left. 

This  site  for  Capernaum  is  advocated  by  Rev.  W.  M.  Thomson 
{''  Land  and  l>ook,"  i.  543)  ;  and  Dr.  Robinson  as  learnedly 
maintains  that  Khan  Minyeh  is  the  true  site,  near  the  fountain 
Ain  et  Tiny.  But  that  fountain  is  too  low  for  use  in  watering 
the  Plain  of  Gennesaret ;  and  Josephus  saj^s  the  fountain  of  Ca- 
l)harnaum  did  water  the  plain,  and  was  the  cause  of  its  wonderful 


DESCRIPTION   OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  339 

fertility.  Mr.  Thomson's  argument,  derived  from  the  name  Tel 
Hum,  is  given  under  Tel  Hum. 

Khan  Minyeh  is  Chinneroth,  and  that  in  Maccabees  is  written 
Genasor,  which  is  Gennesaret.  But  now  comes  the  Palestine 
Exploration,  which  finds  the  name  preserved  by  the  native  Arabs 
as  Capharnaum  at  Khan  Minyeh. 

Josephus  does  not  locate  either  the  fountain  or  the  village  of 
Capernaum  in  the  plain  ;  and  they  are  both  outside  and  away 
from  it  some  distance,  if  Tel  Hum  is  the  site  of  the  village  and 
Tabiga  the  fountain.     See  Tabiga. 

The  ruined  building  in  the  centre  of  the  picture  stands  near 
the  water,  and  was  built  of  stones  taken  from  what  is  called  the 
*'  White  Synagogue,"  which  was  of  white  limestone. 

That  building  was  seventy-five  feet  long  by  fifty-seven  wide, 
and  was  long  north  and  south,  with  three  entrances  at  the  south. 
It  was  higher  up  on  the  crest  of  the  hill. 

Many  of  the  pedestals  of  columns  are  in  position,  and  a  few 
Corinthian  capitals  are  scattered  about.  The  remains  of  a  church 
are  near,  which  may  be  that  mentioned  by  Epiphanius  and  de- 
scribed by  Antonius,  600  a.  d.,  as  a  basilica  with  a  house  of  Peter 
attached.  The  ruins  of  the  supposed  "White  Synagogue  "  are 
different  in  plan  and  construction  from  that  of  any  church,  mosk, 
or  temple  in  Palestine  or  Syria.  A  figure  of  a  seven-branched 
candlestick  marks  that  lintel  as  a  part  of  a  synagogue,  rather 
than  of  a  church  or  mosk. 

Sanguine  pilgrims  almost  venerate  the  blocks  of  this  ruin  as 
parts  of  "  the  synagogue  built  by  the  Roman  Centurion  (Luke 
vii.  4,  5),  and  one  of  the  most  sacred  places  on  earth."  A  pot 
of  manna  was  engraved  on  one  large  block,  —  probably  a  lintel. 

A  gentle  slope  rises  behind  the  synagogue  northwest,  covered 
closely  with  foundations  in  place  and  fallen  walls  of  dwellings. 
Some  tombs  have  been  opened  at  the  north  end  of  the  city,  the 
entrance  cut  through  the  basalt  at  the  surface  and  enlarged  in 
the  limestone  below  for  the  locnli  Another  tomb  was  above 
ground,  large  enough  for  a  hundred  or  more  bodies,  whitewashed 
within  and  without  (Matt,  xxiii.  27).     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 


340  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Healing  Ten  Lepers.     Mountains  op  Ephraim. 

View  near  Sinjil  in  the  valley  a  mile  east  of  the  village. 
Sinjil  is  built  high  up  on  the  side  of  a  narrow  wadi  which  opens 
into  the  broad  valley  shown  in  the  picture.  The  village  is 
twenty-six  hundred  feet  above  the  sea-level.  The  distant 
mountains  are  around  Nabloos  (Shechem).  The  road  over  the 
spur  in  light  at  the  left  leads  towards  Khan  Lubban,  near  the 
site  of  the  ancient  Lebonah.  If  you  would  go  to  Seilun  (Shiloh), 
you  must  turn  to  the  right,  leaving  Turmus  Ay  a  (Thormassia) 
behind  you  to  the  right. 

This  is  the  dividing  line  between  El  Koods  (Jerusalem)  and 
Nabloos,  politically  and  topographically,  for  the  water  runs  to  all 
points  of  the  compass  from  this  valley.  It  is  therefore  down 
grade  to  Nabloos,  and  also  to  Jerusalem.  The  Sinjil  range  of 
hills  or  mountains  divides  Samaria  from  Judsea,  as  fixed  by  the 
Eomans.     (See  map  opposite  page  299.) 

This  is  in  the  heart  of  the  Mountains  of  Ephraim,  in  many  re- 
spects the  most  desirable  part  of  all  Palestine  for  a  farmer. 
Having  hills,  valleys,  brooks  in  plenty,  and  abundance  of  water, 
forest  and  fruit  trees  in  great  variety,  rich  soil,  fine  climate,  the 
district  would  support  a  hundred  times  the  present  population, 
and  in  much  better  condition. 

The  scenery  is  beautiful  everywhere,  —  in  the  shut-in  valleys, 
as  in  our  engraving,  or  on  the  hights,  where  half  Palestine  niay 
be  seen  at  a  glance. 

The  many  historic  sites,  it  would  seem,  would  supply  an  ever- 
increasing  number  of  topics  for  a  talkative  people  such  as  live 
there  ;  but  as  they  are  practically  without  a  literature,  they  mix 
up  the  legends  and  traditions  and  historic  tales  in  a  wild  and  ex- 
asperating confusion.  One  might  easily  suppose  after  listening 
for  an  evening  to  the  native  gathering  at  the  Shayk's  divan  th;i1 
half  of  the  most  important  events  of  the  past  had  been  provi 
dentially  located  in  this  region.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Rejected  hy  the  Samaritans.     Samaria,  the  hill. 

If  you  should  ride  from  Nabloos  to  Sebustiyeh  (Samaria),  you 
would  find  the  six  miles  very  long,  because  through  a  rich,  pro- 
ductive country,  well  supplied  with  all  sorts  of  good  things  for 
the  body  and  occupation  for  the  mind. 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  341 

When  thirsty,  you  alight  near  a  garden  of  melons  or  cucumbers 
or  an  orchard,  of  figs  and  pomegranates,  where  for  a  piastre  (five 
cents)  you  can  feast  a  party  of  four  or  five. 

If  tired,  there  are  shade-trees  by  the  way,  and  now  and  then  a 
small  group  or  field  of  forest  trees. 

The  main  object  of  a  visit  to  Samaria  is  to  see  the  ruin  of 
the  Crusaders'  Church  of  Saint  John  the  Baptist.  The  ruins 
show  large  and  white  in  the  picture  among  and  over  the  houses 
of  the  modern  Arab  village.  The  roof  fell  in  long  ago,  nobody 
knows  when ;  but  the  walls  are  there,  well  buttressed,  and  likely 
to  stand  another  thousand  years. 

The  Tomb  of  John  the  Baptist  is  shown  ;  but  why  he  was 
brought  from  Machaerus  to  this  place  no  one  has  as  yet 
conjectured. 

The  Arab  village  has  fifty  or  sixty  houses,  which  number  de- 
pends on  how  many  tumble  down  after  a  rainy  season  and  are 
rebuilt  or  not. 

The  village  is  like  all  other  Arab  villages  ;  but  the  remains  of 
ancient  Samaria  are  peculiar,  because  of  the  great  number  of 
columns  which  are  now  standing  half  buried  in  the  ground,  and 
it  is  believed  once  formed  a  colonnade  along  the  principal  street, 
as  was  also  the  case  at  Jerash,  east  of  the  Jordan. 

The  hill  is  about  three  hundred  feet  above  the  plain,  which 
surrounds  the  hill  on  three  sides,  and  is  itself  walled  in  by  moun- 
tains on  every  side,  with  two  or  three  passes  out  east,  south,  west, 
and  north.  No  finer  site  for  an  inland  city  could  be  found,  and 
it  is  really  superior  to  Jerusalem  in  position  and  scenery.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan.     Way  to  Jericho. 

View  in  the  Wadi  Kelt,  just  at  the  point  where  the  valley  at 
Jericho  comes  into  view,  the  Plain  of  Jericho  and  Mountains  of 
Moab  in  the  distance.  This  way  the  greater  part  of  the  distance 
is  now  over  a  passably  good  road,  which  Avas  built  by  a  Rus- 
sian nobleman.  He  made  the  pilgrimage  to  the  place  of  baptism 
at  Easter  in  company  with  several  thousand  countrymen,  and 
suffered  so  much  from  the  ruggedness  of  the  road  that  he  vowed 
to  smooth  it  for  the  sake  of  the  poorer  pilgrims  who  had  to 
walk. 


342  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ESCRAVINGS. 

Wadi  Kelt  is  Arabic  for  Brook  Cheritli,  where  it  is  supposed 
Elijah  was  fed  by  ravens.  Another  site  is  shown  on  the  map, 
page  209.  Many  thousands  of  anchorites  have  adopted  tliis 
opinion,  and  have  bored  holes  in  the  soft  rock  of  the  clifts,  where 
they  have  been  fed  —  not  by  ravens,  but  by  the  charitable,  or,  in 
many  cases,  by  an  allowance  from  some  monastery.  This  gorge 
is  alive  with  pigeons,  that  in  countless  thousands  nest  in  the 
crevices  or  in  the  cells  or  caves  formerly  the  homes  of  monks. 
Eagles,  hawks,  ravens,  vultures,  and  other  birds  keep  them  com- 
pany. In  the  summer  a  little  brook  runs  at  the  bottom,  aiul  in 
the  winter  a  furious  torrent. 

Half-way  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  the  Arabs  point  out  a 
ruined  khan,  whose  walls  are  not  all  prostrate,  and  whose  cisterns 
are  now  good,  and  say  tradition  names  it  the  Khan  of  the  Good 
Samaritan.  It  was  probably  built  by  the  Crusaders,  and  aban- 
doned when  it  needed  repairs.  (The  Arabs  seldom  repair  any 
building.)  Near  the  khan  are  several  caves,  which  are  often 
used  by  travelers  who  rest  there  by  day  from  the  heat,  and  by 
night  sleep  secure  from  the  heavy  dew. 

On  the  hill  northeast  of  the  khan  a  small  fort  is  still  in  good 
condition  as  to  solidity  of  walls.  From  it  one  may  see  the  Plain 
of  Jericho  to  the  northeast,  and  the  Mount  of  Olives  to  the 
southwest.  Tradition  says  Solomon,  the  Romans,  and  the  Cru- 
saders built  it.     Who  knows  ? 

This  way  is  as  unsafe  now  as  ever.  Bedawins  know  no  law 
but  force,  and  robberies  are  frequent.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Bethany  beyond  Jordan.     Beth  Nimrah. 

Five  miles  north  of  Libias  (identified  as  Beth-haran)  is  a  site 
called  by  the  Arabs  Nalir  Nimrin,  which  is  the  lower  end  of 
Wadi  Shoaib,  near  one  of  the  fords  on  Jordan.  This  wadi  begins 
near  Es  Salt  and  ends  in  the  Jordan  valley.  The  ancients  refer 
to  it  under  the  various  names :  Bethabara,  Bethabra,  Betharaba, 
Betlianabra,  and  Bethany  beyond  Jordan.  The  ruins  are  of  mills 
and  dwellings  for  the  millers ;  no  village. 

The  water  is  very  plentiful ;  and  Bedawins  lead  countless  flocks 
and  herds  there,  and  pitch  their  tents  on  the  bights  above  the 
streams.  Hostile  tribes  keep  the  peace  at  the  watering-places, 
and  while  watering  their  cattle  exchange  news  and  gossip. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  343 

From  this  place  the  view  westward  is  full  of  interest  to  the 
student,  and  of  inspiration  to  the  devout.  The  range  of  the 
mountains  of  Judaja  from  near  Hebron  to  Jerusalem,  and  Sinjil, 
and  of  the  Mountains  of  Ephraim  (Samaria)  from  Sinjil  to  near 
Nabloos  (Shechem),  is  visible  as  a  wall  lifted  high  above  the  Jor- 
dan valley,  nearly  four  thousand  feet  opposite  Jericho.  Looking 
towards  the  Dead  Sea,  the  air  is  full  of  haze,  like  the  Indian  sum- 
mer, or  autumn  haze  in  the  United  States.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Lazarus  Raised  (John  xi).     Bethany,  from  the  Jerusalem 
road. 

As  we  see  this  village  from  the  road  to  the  so-called  Fountain 
of  the  Apostles,  it  looks  like  a  thrifty  home  of  busy  workers, 
such  as  Bethlehem  south  of  Jerusalem  is.  The  visitor  finds  a 
very  different  place,  full  of  men  whose  only  occupation,  father 
and  son,  for  centuries,  has  been  to  guide  travelers  and  pilgrims 
to  the  so-called  sacred  localities.  They  are  like  a  swarm  of 
hungry  (human)  bees,  who  smell  silver  honey  and  show  you  one 
of  many  caves  as  the  Tomb  of  Lazarus,  with  a  fine  stairway  of 
twenty-five  steps  of  cut  stone ;  the  houses  of  Mary  and  Martha, 
and  of  Simon  the  Leper;  and  offer  for  sale  many  kinds  of  curi- 
osities, keepsakes,  ancient  coins,  and  now  and  then  a  saintly 
relic. 

Sandys  (1610)  says  the  Castle  of  Lazarus,  the  house  of  Si- 
mon the  Leper,  and  a  chapel  were  on  Olivet,  between  its  sum- 
mit and  Bethany.  Over  the  vault  of  Lazarus  were  two  chapels, 
with  a  church  (Helena's)  between,  and  next  to  them  an  abbey 
built  by  Queen  Milisend.  The  ruins  of  a  monastery  to  which 
Mary  retired  were  visible,  and  a  Temple  stood  on  the  site  of 
Martha's  house. 

Groves  and  orchards  of  native  fruits,  and  a  few  shade  trees  in- 
crease the  attractiveness  of  the  scenery,,  and  suggest  the  reflection 
that  this  must  anciently  have  been  the  perfection  of  retirement 
from  the  bustle  of  Jerusalem. 

The  village  is  now  called  El  Azariyeh  (Lazarusville) ;  and  it  is 
well  named,  for  every  person  in  the  place  old  enough  to  talk 
seems  devoted  to  commemorating  the  virtues  of  its  patron  saint. 

The  convents  may  have  been  rebuilt  or  repaired  many  times 
within  the  centuries  since  the  Crusades. 


344  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  EXGRAVINGS. 

The  three  summits  of  Olivet  rise  behind  the  village,  and  shut 
out  a  view  of  Jerusalem. 

Ou  the  rocks  in  the  foreground  some  goats  are  feeding ;  almost 
any  day  gazelles  may  be  seen  in  little  flocks,  feeding  on  the  slopes 
or  among  the  rocks.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Ephraim.     Ophrah,  now  called  Et  Taiyibeh. 

For  a  discussion  as  to  the  identity  of  this  place  with  Bethle- 
hem of  Judaea,  see  Bethlehem. 

The  fields  about  it,  now  used  as  pastures  (see  the  next  picture) 
may  have  been  those  referred  to  by  tlie  ancient  writer,  while  the 
terraced  district  east  of  the  modern  Bethlehem  could  not  have 
been  pastured. 

As  a  place  of  retirement  it  was  then  and  is  now  all  that  could 
be  desired  in  scenery,  climate,  productions,  and  distance  from 
"the  madding  crowd."     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Mount  Hermon,  from  Et  Taiyibeh. 

This  view  is  north  over  a  section  of  the  country  that  is  very 
little  known.  Shiloh  and  Taanach  are  to  the  left,  behind  the 
small  trees  ;  Jokmeam  direct  in  front,  and  Zaretan  in  the  Ghor 
below  our  vision,  because  obstructed  by  the  ridge  that  ends  in 
the  cliff  of  Sartabeh ;  and  Beth  Shan  and  the  region  around  the 
Sea  of  Galilee  are  also  hidden.  In  midsummer  Hermon  has  only 
a  fringe  of  snow.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Tower  of  Hippicus. 

This  nearly  square  tower  is  a  part  of  the  citadel  of  Jerusalem, 
and  is  without  doubt  the  Hippicus  described  by  Josephus  as 
built  by  Herod.  The  figure  in  the  picture  is  looking  into  the 
deep  ditch  that  separates  the  citadel  from  the  city.  The  space 
inclosed  by  battlements  at  the  top  is  now  used  as  a  guard-house, 
where  Turkish  soldiers  are  —  or  are  supposed  to  be  —  stationed 
and  constantly  on  the  watch,  and  the  Turkish  flag  is  displayed 
on  certain  days. 

Dr.  Edward  Robinson  thought  that  all  above  the  slant  had 
been  rebuilt  in  modern  times,  probably  since  the  Crusades.  He 
measured  the  stones  in  the  ancient  basement,  and  found  three  of 
them  9  feet  8  inches  long,  4  feet  G  inches  wide,  3  feet  10  inches 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  345 

high ;  10  feet  2  inches  long,  4  feet  1  inch  high ;  and  12  feet  9 
inches  long,  3  feet  5  inches  high. 

The  base  is  solid,  as  Josephus  says  (Wars,  iv.  3,  4),  and  nieas- 
ures  on  the  side  toward  us  in  the  picture  70  feet,  on  the  side 
seen  to  the  left  56  feet  4  inches.  The  whole  bight  was  120  feet. 
No  entrance  has  been  found  into  the  lower  part,  and  the  upper  is 
entered  about  half-way  up  on  the  west  side.  A  tradition  says 
that  an  underground  passage  led  from  the  tower  to  Herod's 
palace,  which  it  is  supposed  was  near  here,  on  the  space  between 
the  tower  and  the  Armenian  Convent  on  Zion;  perhaps  where 
the  English  Church  stands.  It  is  supposed  that  Hadrian  threw 
down  all  above  the  solid  base,  but  there  is  no  proof  of  this. 
Josephus  wrote  about  two  other  towers  near  this,  one  of  which 
■was  called  Psephinos,  octagonal  and  105  feet  high ;  and  another, 
Phasselus,  60  feet  square  and  135  feet  high.  A  third  named 
Mariamne,  after  Herod's  wife,  was  30  feet  square  and  75  feet 
high. 

Those  were  days  in  which  towers  were  held  in  high  favor.  In 
our  day  they  are  pulling  down  the  walls  of  Joppa  to  be  sold  for 
building-stone ;  and  those  of  Jerusalem  may  as  well  go  that  way, 
for  they  were  built  only  five  centuries  ago  by  the  Arab  Solomon, 
Sultan  of  Egypt,  and  have  very  little  connection  with  the  walls 
described  by  Josephus.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Parable  of  the  Lost  Sheep.     Shepherd. 

The  shepherd  of  to  day  in  Palestine  often  has  to  help  a  lame 
sheep  or  lamb  out  of  a  difficult  place  among  the  rocks,  and  when 
caught  in  a  pit  or  lost  among  narrow  rocky  ravines,  go  in  search 
and  bring  it  to  the  fold,  if  it  has  broken  a  leg  or  has  become 
tired.  In  that  case  the  cloak  of  goat's  hair  girdled  about  the 
waist  forms  a  large  pocket,  very  convenient  for  a  heavy  load. 

The  shepherd's  cloak  is  his  protection  by  day  and  his  cover 
"when  sleeping  at  night.  Its  form  has  not  materially  changed 
since  the  earliest  mention  of  it  in  history,  and  certainly  not  since 
the  days  of  the  Maccabees.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Candlestick  (Matt.  v.  15). 

Lamp  on  a  modern  stool.  The  small  jug  is  for  holding  oil,  and 
holds  about  half  a  pint.     Olive  oil  was  used  until  kerosene  was 


346  DKSCRirrws  of  the  exgravings. 

introduced ;  and  this  clieaper  oil  has  driven  the  old-style  lamps 
out  of  use,  except  in  out-ut-the-way  places. 

This  lamp  and  jug  were  loaned  me  by  Kobert  Morris,  LL.D., 
who  brought  them  i'rom  the  Holy  Land  in  18G8.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Pella.     Ambitious  Request  of  James  and  John. 

Pella  was  at  the  north  and  Macha^rus  at  the  south  of  a  politi- 
cal district  east  of  the  Jordan,  and  in  Arabia,  as  divided  under 
the  Komans.  The  modern  Arab  village  is  called  Tubakat  Fahil, 
the  Fahil  being  Arabic  for  Pella.  They  also  pronounce  the 
ancient  name  Belila. 

It  is  in  a  very  fruitful  region,  watered  with  brooks,  and  the 
scenery  is  extensive  and  varied.  The  round  top  of  Mount  Tabor 
rises  to  the  west,  and  left  in  the  picture ;  Mount  Hermon  is  in 
plain  view  in  the  north,  and  Jebel  Osha,  near  Es  Salt  in  the 
south ;  eastward  the  bights  of  Gilead,  and  beyond  them  Jebel 
Kafkafa  shut  out  the  desert  or  wilderness  which  extends  to  the 
Euphrates  and  the  -Persian  Gulf. 

Eusebius  says  this  city  was  a  refuge  of  Christians  for  centu- 
ries after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  some  suppose  they 
went  there  because  the  place  had  been  visited  by  Jesus.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Burning  Dry  Grrass  in  Ovens  (Luke  xii.  28). 

Dry  grass  is  used  everywhere  in  Palestine  and  Arabia  for  fuel ; 
thorns,  thistles,  and  any  small  shrub  also,  when  they  can  be 
had.  The  oven  is  primitive  or  simple  in  form,  of  stone,  and 
when  smooth  on  the  .outside  serves  for  baking  the  thin  cakes 
eaten  by  all  as  bread  with  meat.  Larger  loaves  are  baked  in  the 
oven. 

When  the  grass  fails,  the  dung  of  cattle  is  dried  and  used  as 
fuel.  In  Egypt  and  some  parts  of  Palestine  these  fuel-cakes 
may  be  seen  stuck  on  the  walls  of  the  houses,  on  the  sunny  side, 
drying  against  a  wet  day.      (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Laborers  in  the  Vineyard.     Engedi  (Ain  Jidi). 

Engedi  is  almost  the  only  pleasant  place  on  the  west  shore  of 
the  Dead  Sea.  A  few  vineyards  where  there  have  been  hun- 
dreds, a  number  of  deserted  garden-plots,  are  all  that  remain  in 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  347 

a  once  well-tilled  place.  Very  beautiful  for  situation,  four  liun- 
dred  feet  above  the  Dead  Sea  level,  watered  with  many  brooks, 
and  having  a  rich,  deep  soil,  it  would  afford  a  home  for  a  large 
number  of  industrious  people.  Now  a  few  Bedawins  gather  a 
part  of  the  grapes,  and  the  birds  eat  the  rest.  The  grapes  are 
oval,  large,  light-colored,  and  delicious  in  flavor,  particularly  after 
a  long  ride  under  a  hot  sun. 

Josephus  mentions  balsam  as  a  product  at  Engedi,  and  Pliny 
writes  of  its  palms.  Since  the  fourth  century,  when  a  village 
was  there,  no  traveler  has  ever  reported  any  but  Bedawins  as 
inhabitants.  No  balsam  or  palms  are  there  now.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  ii.) 

And  Jesus  entered  and  passed  through  Jericho  (Luke  xix.) 
Site  op  Jericho. 

A  visitor  to  the  present  Arab  (or  Bedawin)  village  will  won- 
der what  has  become  of  the  Jericho  of  the  time  of  Josephus. 
He  says  (Ant.,  xiv.  4,  1 ;  Wars,  iv.  8,  3)  that  palm-trees  were 
abundant ;  and  Strabo  also  mentions  them  :  "  He  who  should 
declare  this  place  divine  would  not  be  mistaken,  wherein  is  such 
plenty  of  trees  produced ;  not  any  climate  in  the  habitable  globe 
can  be  compared  to  it."  But  the  story  would  be  written  differ- 
ently now.  Thirty  years  ago  a  few  palms  were  left,  but  now 
all  have  disappeared.  The  busy  thousands  of  the  days  of  the 
Roman  occupation,  when  the  fine  aqueduct  that  brought  water 
from  Wadi  Kelt  was  built,  have  gone,  and  their  places  are  occu- 
pied by  a  few  dozen  chocolate-colored  Arabs,  who  form  a  people 
by  themselves,  for  they  are  different  from  all  the  Arabs  or  Bed- 
awins in  Palestine  or  xVrabia.  They  raise  wheat  by  the  help  of 
Fellah  labor,  which  they  hire,  and  care  for  a  few  flocks  and 
herds,  and  sleep  under  vines  trained  high,  except  in  the  rainy 
season,  when  they  crowd  into  their  poorly  built  houses,  made 
from  ancient  materials  loosely  piled  up,  or  with  mud  brick,  sun- 
burned, roofed  with  grass  and  stones. 

The  Plain  of  Jericho  is  the  hottest  place  on  earth.  The  register 
for  August  is  178°  in  the  sun  from  11  A.  m.  to  3  p.  M.  120°  in 
the  shade  is  moderate. 

On  the  hills  along  the  Wadi  Kelt  there  is  spring  weather  the 
year  round ;  no  scorching  sun,  no  frost. 


348  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRA  VINOS. 

Our  view  combines  a  glimpse  of  a  pool  below  the  Elisha  Foun- 
tain, and  the  old  convent  of  Saint  John,  nearer  tlie  Jordan  Kiver. 
This  must  have  been  a  delightful  residence  in  its  best  days.  Its 
walls  were  thick  enough  to  moderate  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  its 
larder  could  have  been  supplied  with  all  that  is  desirable  for  the 
table. 

In  the  distance  the  Dead  Sea  is  visible ;  and  beyond  it,  to  the 
left,  among  the  mountains,  is  Mount  Pisgah,  as  identified  by  Rev. 
J.  A.  Paine,  the  archaeologist  of  the  American  Palestine  Explo- 
ration ;  and  in  the  same  region  he  found  what  is  called  the 
Springs  of  IMoses. 

Accepting  what  Josephus  says  about  the  fertility  of  Jericho,  it 
is  not  improbable  that  it  may  yet  become  a  resort  for  health  and 
pleasure-seekers,  which  will  be  possible  without  the  great  fatigue 
now  required,  when  the  railroad  that  is  projected  in  Palestine  is 
built.  To  invalids  with  weak  lungs,  the  climate  on  the  hills 
west  of  Jericho  must  be  desirable,  if  not  entirely  salubrious ;  for 
the  heat  is  never  intense,  and  frost  is  unknown.  It  has  been 
described  as  a  region  of  perpetual  spring  or  fall.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Triumphal  Entry  of  Christ  into  Jerusalem. 

The  Egad  from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem,  which  passes  over 
the  southern  shoulder  of  Olivet,  between  the  summit  which  lies 
over  the  so-called  Tombs  of  the  Prophets  and  that  called  the 
Mount  of  Offence,  is  now  the  usual  route  of  caravans  and  all 
large  parties,  and  was  probably  so  anciently,  for  the  other  two 
are  steeper.  (See  Matt,  xxi.,  Mark  xi.,  Luke  xix.,  John  xii.,  and 
the  plan  of  Jerusalem.) 

From  this  road  the  first  glimjDse  of  the  city  and  the  southeast 
corner  of  the  Temple  is  had,  from  the  high  ground,  a  little  more 
than  a  mile  west  of  P)ethany.  The  road  then  descends  a  slight 
declivity,  and  the  city  is  hid  behind  a  ridge  of  Olivet.  A  few 
steps  farther  on,  the  path  rises  steeply  to  a  smooth  rock,  and  the 
whole  city  and  Temple  site  come  into  plain  view,  as  seen  in  the 
view  of  Jerusalem  from  the  P>ethan3'  road.  On  no  other  route 
can  the  requirements  of  the  text  be  fulfilled.  This  is  almost 
the  only  spot  on  Olivet  not  marked  by  a  church  or  chapel,  and 
about  the  only  place  whose  site  is  jjrecisely  indicated  in  the  text 
of  the  Gospels. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENURAVINGS.  349 

"  And  when  he  was  come  near  he  beheld  the  city  and  wept 
over  it." 

"  I  was  surprised  to  find  on  one  occasion,  when  standing  with 
my  brother  at  this  spot  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  that  the  other 
two  of  our  party,  who  stood  at  the  southeast  corner  of  the  Haram 
wall,  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley,  could  distinctly  hear  our 
words  addressed  to  them,  when  spoken  in  a  loud  and  clear  voice. 
The  priests  in  the  temple  may  have  heard  the  very  words  of  the 
loud  and  jubilant  song  of  triumph  which  welcomed  the  Messiah  " 
(Eastward,  McLeod,  p.  180).     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.  ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Prediction  of  Destruction  of  the  Temple.  Restoration  op 
THE  Temple,  after  a  design  by  Fergusson. 
The  site  of  the  Temple  of  Herod  —  or,  as  it  is  also  called,  of 
Solomon's  Temple — has  been  debated  warmly  by  many  scholars 
and  engineers,  without  a  positive  settlement  of  the  question> 
because  "  not  one  stone  has  been  left  on  another,"  and  not  one 
with  any  sort  of  inscription  or  decoration,  which  might  identify 
it  as  a  part  of  the  destroyed  building.  In  the  absence  of  any 
clew  beyond  what  the  Gospels  and  Josephus  afford,  the  utmost 
latitude  is  given  for  locating  it  anywhere  within  the  Temple 
enclosure,  which  is  900  to  1,000  feet  wide  by  1,500  long,  while 
the  largest  space  assigned  to  the  Temple  is  but  600  feet  square. 
Mr.  Fergusson  urges  that  the  Dome  of  the  Rock  —  the  large 
mosque,  formerly  a  Greek  church,  which  covers  the  so-called 
Rock  and  Threshing-Floor  of  Araunah,  in  which  are  a  cave  and 
a  sacred  Avell  —  is  on  the  true  historic  site  of  the  Temple,  which 
would  have  been  built  over  the  shrine  already  hallowed  by 
Abrahamic  and  Davidic  traditions.  His  arguments  are  those  of 
a  learned  architect  and  scholar,  well  read  in  lore  relating  to  the 
question,  and  are  as  satisfactory  as  may  be  in  the  absence  of 
direct  evidence  derived  from  the  ancients,  which  has  probably 
perished.  A  ruined  chapel,  called  the  Chapel  of  the  Prediction, 
marks  the  traditional  spot,  and  is  shown  to  the  left  in  the  en- 
graving, Jerusalem  from  the  Northeast.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  1.;  Svo 
ed.,  1890,  vol.  i.) 

Plan  and  Section  of  the   Temple. 
A  thousand  and  one  various  plans  have  been  made  of  the  sup- 
posed form  of  the  Temple  built  by  Herod,  but  not  one  of  them 


350  DESCRIPTIOX  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

on  any  new  facts  or  materials  wliich  add  to  what  is  given  by 
Josephus. 

It  may  be  true,  as  it  is  claimed,  that  the  description  of  what  is 
called  Solomon's  Temple  in  the  Old  Testament  and  in  Josephus 
really  belongs  to  Ilerud's.  Excavation  has  not  yet  revealed  tlie 
plan,  nor  even  one  identitiable  stone  of  either  wall  or  foundation. 

Mr.  Fergusson's  plan  is  the  result  of  a  vast  amount  of  study 
by  a  thorough  and  painstaking  scholar.  (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo 
ed.,  vol.  i.) 

The  Barren  Fig-tree.  FiG  and  Leaves. 
Figs  —  the  tree  and  the  fruit  —  are  used  by  both  poets  and 
prose-writers  in  the  Bible.  In  the  story  of  the  expulsion  from 
Paradise,  in  that  of  the  spies  in  the  promised  land,  in  the 
descriptions  of  the  laud  by  Moses,  and  in  the  Bible  generally, 
the  fig  is  used  as  a  mark  of  fruitfulness. 

It  was  a  prosperous  time,  when  every  man  dwelt  safely  under 
his  vine  and  his  fig-tree.  In  Jeremiah  the  fig  is  an  emblem  of 
good  or  evil,  and  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  is  a  vision  of  good 
and  bad  figs. 

The  fig  is  often  used  in  the  discourses  of  Jesus. 
The    fig    grows    naturally  all    around  the  Mediterranean,  and 
eastward  in  Arabia   and   Persia.     The   two   kinds  —  green   and 
purple  —  are  both  delicious  in  their  season.     The  tree   requires 
cultivation,  and  soon  fails  if  neglected.     (Imp.  ed.,  voh  i.) 

Washing  Feet  in  the  East  (John  xiii.). 

The  washing  of  the  hands  and  feet  is  a  necessary  custom 
where  people  eat  from  a  common  dish,  and  help  theniselves  by 
dipping  the  fingers  in  the  mess,  and  also  sit  on  a  divan  with  bare 
feet;  and  it  is  a  special  honor  when  the  host  himself  serves  his 
guest.  It  is  one  of  the  rites  of  hospitality  ;  but  it  may  be,  and 
usually  is,  done  by  a  servant,  or  if  in  a  poor  family,  by  the  wife 
or  the  daughters. 

The  water  is  poured  on  the  hands  from  a  ewer.  Perfumed 
soaps  and  water  are  used  by  the  luxurious.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

O-ethsemane.      Old   Olive  Trees  in  the  Place   now  called   the 
Grarden  of  G-ethsemane. 
When  we  know  from  history  that  the  Romans  cut  down  all  the 
trees  around  J<n-usalem,  in  the  siege  under  Titus,  we  may  well  be 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  351 

surprised  at  the  claim  of  the  monks  that  the  eight  old  trees  in 
the  little  place  called  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  are  really  sur- 
vivals from  the  night  when  Peter  denied  and  betrayed  his  Master, 
—  that  is  to  say,  from  about  forty  years  before  they  were  cut 
down. 

The  olive  lives  to  a  great  age.  One  between  Tivoli  and  Pales- 
trina  has  a  history,  if  certain  documents  are  genuine,  dating  from 
before  the ,  Christian  era,  and  is  living  and  fruitful  now.  At 
Athens  an  olive  was  formerly  shown  that  was  at  least  sixteen 
centuries  old. 

Its  oil  was  once  the  great  staple  in  Palestine.  As  a  food  it 
is  yet ;  but  the  lamp  is  supplied  with  kerosene. 

Two  harvests  are  gathered,  —  one  in  August,  and  the  other  in 
October.  The  best  oil  is  squeezed  from  the  ripe  fruit  by  hand, 
the  second  quality  is  trod  out,  and  the  third  pressed  in  an 
oil-press. 

The  poets  said  Jupiter  crowned  himself  with  olive  leaves  after 
his  victory  over  the  Titans  ;  and  the  olive  was  the  crown  at  the 
Olympic  Games,  and  it  has  always  been  an  emblem  of  peace. 

The  location  of  the  Garden  in  the  jDresent  place,  however  arbi- 
trary, has  not  called  out  any  severe  criticism  ;  because  if  any- 
where on  the  west  slope  of  Olivet  facing  Jerusalem,  and  not  too 
far  from  the  brook  Kidron,  it  would  meet,  all  the  requirements  of 
the  text  in  the  Gospels. 

The  word  "  Gethsemane  "  means  "  oil-press ;  "  and  there  was 
probably  such  a  thing  in  the  garden  referred  to  by  the  writers. 
Now  the  number  of  trees  and  quantity  of  fruit  in  that  and  neigh- 
boring gardens  would  not  keep  a  press  busy. 

When  I  first  saw  the  place  it  was  open  to  all  visitors,  without 
fence  or  seats,  like  any  ordinary  orchard  of  olives.  On  the  sec- 
ond visit  it  was  said  that  some  one  of  the  Latin  monks  had  dis- 
covered somehow  that  this  place  is  the  true  site  of  Gethsemane, 
and  it  was  fenced  in  with  a  very  low  and  primitive  paling.  The 
third  visit  found  a  series  of  prayer-stations  roughly  marked  out 
by  stakes  or  crosses.  The  Greeks  had  awakened  to  the  impor- 
tance of  the  situation,  and  selected  a  site  somewhat  farther  up 
the  valley,  which  they  insisted  on  as  the  only  true  site. 

A  fourth  visit  was  a  surprise.  The  gafden  was  walled  in  by 
stone  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  with  a  single  door,  which  was  only 
opened  by  special    (silver)  request;    inside  the  prayer-stations 


352  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

were  well-built  niches,  roofed  over ;  and  the  garden  was  beautiful 
with  ilower-beds  and  gravel  walks,  and  pleasant  with  shade  and 
comfortable  seats  under  the  eight  old  olive  trees. 

One  thought  is  pertinent  here.  This  garden  is  beside  the  only- 
easy  path  between  the  city  and  the  village  on  the  top  of  Olivet, 
and  could  not  have  been  a  retired  place.  It  seems  likely  the 
monks  have  adopted  it  for  convenience  ;  for  it  is  near  the  Virgin's 
tomb  (or  Sepulcher  of  Saint  Mary),  and  on  the  way  to  the  Church 
of  the  Ascension,  and  therefore  good  enough  for  present  purposes. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Aceldama.     Tombs  in  Hinnom. 

The  Talmud  informs  the  Jews  that  "  in  the  valley  of  Hinnom 
are  two  palm  trees  between  which  a  smoke  arises  ;  and  this  is 
what  we  learn,  —  the  palms  of  the  mountain  are  fit  for  iron. 
This  is  the  door  of  Gehenna." 

The  palms  have  perished.  Only  a  few  small  shrubs  and  flowers 
grow  near  the  tombs,  which  are  cut  into  the  rock.  It  could 
never  have  been  a  fit  place  for  dwellings  ,  for  the  sides  of  the 
valley  are  very  steep  and  rocky,  and  in  the  rainy  season  the  water 
washes  in  torrents  down  the  sides  and  along  the  channel,  making 
very  insecure  footing  among  the  loose  stones  or  on  the  bare 
rocks. 

The  tombs  are  in  the  face  of  what  is  called  "  The  Hill  of  Evil 
Counsel "  and  "  The  Steep  Slope  of  Zion."  Lower  down  the  val- 
ley enlarges  a  little,  and  contains  a  clay  bed  and  some  gardens 
watered  from  the  Siloam  Pool,  and  a  few  olive  trees.  Here  tra- 
dition locates  Aceldama,  and  a  "  whited  sepulcher  "  with  a  Doric 
portal  cut  in  the  face  of  the  rock  is  called  "  The  Apostles'  Hiding 
Place,"  in  which  they  are  said  to  have  remained  between  the 
crucifixion  and  the  resurrection.  The  tree  on  which  Judas  is 
said  to  have  hanged  himself  is  near,  and  high  enough  to  ensure  a 
dangerous,  if  not  a  fatal,  plunge  to  the  rocky  floor  below. 

The  tombs  in  Hinnom  are  well  built,  or  excavated,  and  are 
very  spacious ;  one  in  particular  has  four  or  five  chambers,  each 
with  many  recesses  for  bodies.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  353 

Hesurrectiori.     The    Way  to  Emmaus, 

Three  sites,  or  rather  four,  have  been  proposed  for  this  place  ; 
and  volumes  have  been  written  on  the  claims  of  each.  Euimaus, 
—  or  Amwas,  as  the  Arabs  call  it,  —  the  ancient  Nicopolis,  is 
now  left  out  of  the  controversy  by  common  consent ;  because  it 
is  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  near  Ramleh,  and  more  than 
twice  the  distance  from  Jerusalem  given  in  the  Gospels  and  in 
Josephus. 

The  second  place  is  Kuryet  el  Enab,  on  the  same  road,  and  the 
right  distance,  and  the  place  has  been  honored  with  a  church, 
lately  repaired  by  French  monks,  and  called  Saint  Jeremiah. 

The  third  is  Urtas,  near  the  Solomon  Pools,  southwest  of 
Bethlehem,  where  Dr.  Fish  felt  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  site 
because  the  Arabs  call  it  "El  Hummam,"  which  is  the  equivalent 
of  "  Emmaus  "  in  Greek,  and  "  baths  "  in  English,  and  because  of 
its  remains  of  buildings,  foundations,  mosaic  pavements,  marble- 
lined  bath-tubs,  and  other  evidences  of  its  former  importance. 

The  fourth  site  is  El  Kubeibeh,  northwest  of  the  Holy  City 
about  seven  miles.  If  you  place  one  point  of  dividers  on  the 
temple  site  at  Jerusalem  on  the  map  of  the  English  Palestine 
Exploration,  the  other  will  touch  Urtas,  Kuryet  el  Enab,  and 
El  Kubeibeh,  very  nearly  in  each  case ;  so  the  distance  offers 
nothing  against  either  site.  Franciscan  monks,  following  the 
monks  of  the  time  of  the  Crusaders,  favored  Kubeibeh,  and  they 
and  some  wealthy  friends  have  restored  and  improved  upon 
"  Castrum  Arnoldi "  by  making  it  a  "  holy  place." 

A  fifth  place  is  Kulonia,  only  four  and  a  half  miles  from  Jeru- 
salem, and  in  that  respect  out  of  the  case  as  too  near.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  ii.) 

Pomegranate. 

The  Romans  conquered  Africa,  and  found  the  pomegranate 
very  abundant  there,  and  named  it  Punica.  It  was  introduced  in 
Europe  and  Asia,  and  now  beautifies  and  enriches  nearly  every 
orchard  and  garden  in  the  East.  Three  kinds,  red,  white,  and 
mixed,  larger  than  the  others,  are  valued  each  for  a  different 
flavor.  The  largest  is  very  bitter  and  astringent.  In  Egypt  it 
degenerates  in  some  districts  into  a  small  tree  or  bush,  and 
becomes  barren  for  want  of  water. 
VOL.  n.  —  23 


354  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

In  Persia  and  in  India  it  has  been  grown  from  time  im- 
memorial. 

The   Hebrew  name  is   Rimmon,   and  several   places  are    so 

named. 

Its  rind  is  used  in  tanning  the  kind  of  leather  called  Morocco, 
formerly  made  at  Cordova  when  the  Moors  were  in  Spain.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Crucifixion.    Jerusalem  from  the  Northeast.    Scopus.    Mizpeh. 

This  view  comprises  many  interesting  historical  and  traditional 
sites.  Beginning  on  the  left,  the  white  building  is  the  Chapel  of 
the  Prediction ;  above  it  on  the  horizon  the  Frank  Mountain ; 
below,  towards  the  city,  the  so-called  Absalom  Tomb  or  Pillar ; 
between  these  two  the  white  stones  of  the  tombs  now  used  as  dwel- 
lings, and  called  the  Siloam  village ;  the  Pool  of  Siloam  will  be 
beyond  or  behind  the  Absalom  Pillar,  En  Rogel  behind  or  be- 
yond the  Chapel  of  Prediction,  the  Virgin  Fountain  a  little  to 
the  right  of  the  Absalom  Pillar,  the  Mount  of  Offence  behind 
the  Chapel  of  Prediction ;  the  square  building  is  a  modern  resi- 
dence, and  near  it  to  the  right  are  Gethsemane  and  the  Tomb  of 
the  Virgin ;  over  the  left  corner  of  the  city  wall  in  the  distance 
are  Mar  Elyas,  Eachel's  Tomb,  and  Bethlehem,  not  visible  ;  the 
first  building  to  the  right  of  the  corner  of  the  wall  is  the  mosk 
El  Aksa,  built  by  the  Crusaders  ;  over  it  a  little  to  the  left  on  the 
dai-k  ridge  is  the  House  of  Caiaphas  ;  to  the  right  of  El  Aksa  the 
large  dome  is  the  Dome  of  the  Rock,  formerly  a  Greek  Church ;  to 
the  right  of  this  beyond  the  city  is  the  so-called  tomb  of  David 
iccenaculum)  on  Zion  ;  near  it  to  the  right,  Armenian  Palace,  Col- 
lege, and  Church  of  Saint  James ;  next  is  the  David  Tower,  or 
Hippicus;  near  it  the  English  Church;  near  that,  to  right,  Church 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ;  next,  the  Greek  Convent ;  then  Latin 
Patriarch's  palace  and  church  ;  then  the  northwest  corner  of  the 
city;  over  and  beyond  this,  the  Russian  Convent,  consulate, 
hospital,  and  church  ;  the  gate  in  the  wall  under  El  Aksa  is  the 
Golden  ;  the  next  to  the  right  is  the  Saint  Stephen ;  over  it  the 
tower  marks  the  Governor's  House ;  the  gate  in  the  dark  city  wall 
is  the  Damascus  ;  the  Jaffa  Gate  is  near  the  David  Tower ;  the 
high  mountain  over  the  David  Tower  is  the  site  of  Urtas  and 
Solomon's  Pools ;  outside  of  the  Damascus  Gate  is  one  location 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  355 

of  Calvary,  outside  the  Stephen  Gate  is  another,  and  a  third 
under  the  Holy  Sepulchre  Church,  and  a  fourth  under  the  Dome 
of  the  Rock,  and  a  fifth  on  the  mount  outside  of  the  Saint 
Stephen  Gate;  the  Kidron  Valley  or  Jehoshaphat  is  between  the 
city  and  Olivet ;  and  the  group  of  Arabs  and  camel  is  on  or  near 
the  place  called  "  Scopus  "  or  "  Mizpeh." 

Calvary  or  Golgotha  {gulyolta,  or  (juUjoleth)  was  the  place 
called  "  a  skull  "  outside  but  near  the  gate  of  the  city,  on  a  road 
on  which  there  were  passers-by  to  and  from  the  country,  and  it 
was  probably  the  ordinary  place  for  executions.  There  is  no 
other  evidence  than  a  tradition  of  the  monks  tliat  it  was  "  a 
mount "  or  hill  of  any  kind,  although  some  think  the  term 
'■'■  skull "  means  "  a  skull-shaped  hillock,"  such  as  the  one  called 
the  Grotto  of  Jeremiah  nortli  of  the  Damascus  Gate. 

Another  tradition  (of  the  Talmud)  says  that  Adam  was  buried 
on  what  was  afterwards  named  "  Gulgolta  ;  "  and  the  monks  im- 
proved on  that  by  adding  that  when  the  Eoman  spear  drew  blood 
from  the  side  of  Jesus,  the  drops  fell  on  the  grave,  penetrated  to 
the  skull,  and  by  its  power  restored  life  to  the  first  man  on  the 
spot  whence  the  earth  was  taken  of  which  his  body  was  formed. 
In  memory  of  this  they  marked  a  spot  "  the  place  of  Adam's 
skull  "  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  The  Sepulchre  is 
located  outside  of  the  Saint  Stephen  Gate  and  low  down  in  the 
Kidron  valley,  not  far  from  and  north  of  Gethsemane,  as  located 
by  the  Latins.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Ascension.      Olivet  near  Bethany. 

Olivet,  or  the  Mount  of  Olives,  still  is  worthy  the  name,  for  it 
is  dotted  all  over  with  olive  trees,  and  here  and  there  are  orchards 
or  groves.  Since  the  days  of  Eusebius  (a.  d.  324)  it  has  been  the 
traditional  site  of  the  Ascension  (Dem.  Ev.,  Lib.  VI.  c.  18  ;  Vit. 
Const.,  Lib.  III.  c.  41). 

The  whole  mount  with  its  three  summits  from  near  the  city  to 
as  far  as  Bethany  is  shown  in  the  view,  which  answers  the  de- 
mand of  the  text  in  Luke  (xxiv.  50). 

Different  interpretations  of  the  text  of  Luke  open  the  door  to 
conjecture  as  to  the  site  of  the  Ascension,  which  has  been  located 
on  the  summit  where  the  little  octagon  chapel  stands,  and  also 
anywhere  down  the  slope  as  far  as  to  Bethany,  as  the  text  says. 


•356  DESCRIPTION  OF  TUE  ENGRAVINGS. 

A  chapel  of  solid  stone,  built  by  Russians,  stands  a  little  way 
down  the  slope  from  the  summit.  The  floor  is  in  mosaic  of 
small  cubes  of  stone  of  many  tints,  arranged  in  patterns  and 
images  or  pictures  of  the  several  emblems  of  the  faith.  Ko  otlier 
structure  of  any  kind  is  or  ever  has  been  built,  if  the  absence  of 
foundations  or  ruins  is  an  evidence,  between  the  Russian  chapel 
and  Bethany.  The  view  eastward  from  Olivet  is  elsewhere 
given.  The  south  view  is  more  interesting  in  historic  sites,  but 
not  connected  with  our  subject.  See  Jerusalem  from  the  North- 
east, for  a  part  of  the  south  view. 

In  looking  over  the  history  of  Olivet  in  the  Christian  ages  it 
appears  that  the  Bordeaux  Pilgrim  in  a.d.  333  did  not  learn  of 
any  tradition  of  the  Ascension  on  Olivet,  but  says  a  church  built 
by  Constantine  stood  there  "  to  mark  the  place  where  our  Lord 
used  to  teach  his  disciples,"  and  he  alludes  to  a  "  Mount  of 
Transfiguration"  near,  —  probably  meaning  one  of  the  northern 
summits  of  Olivet. 

Three  hundred  and  seventy  years  later  (603)  the  building  seen 
by  the  Pilgrim  had  been  displaced  by  the  round  church  of 
Modestus,  and  the  tradition  of  the  Ascension  had  become  fixed 
on  the  summit  of  Olivet  nearest  the  city.  A  cave  was  then 
shown  a  little  north  of  Bethany  as  the  one  in  which  Jesus 
taught  his  apostles  and  disciples. 

The  spur  of  Olivet  that  ends  near  or  at  the  village  of  Bethany 
is  advocated  by  man}^  now  as  the  true  site  of  the  Ascension,  and 
this  is  shown  on  the  right  of  the  picture  just  over  the  light 
trees. 

The  present  church,  which  is  the  third  or  fourth  successor  of 
the  original,  — whether  that  was  built  by  Constantine  or  Helena 
his  mother,  —  is  piously  credited  to  the  Empress  Helena.  Great 
names  add  a  certain  lustre  to  material  as  well  as  to  political 
things.  So  in  this  church  of  imperial  origin  there  was  'shown  a 
few  years  ago  a  little  dust  from  the  ground  on  which  Jesus  stood 
at  the  moment  of  his  ascension  ;  and  some  time  later  the  dust 
had  become  a  stone  \\\t\\  a  single  footprint,  and  the  print  of  the 
staff  held  in  the  Lord's  hand ;  and  now  we  are  invited  to  look 
reverently  into  the  prints  of  two  feet  and  of  a  staff  in  the  solid 
native  rock,  under  the  dome  of  the  wonderful  little  church. 
These  sacred  footprints  remind  the  student  of  comparative  myth- 
ology of   other   sacred   footprints,  which   are   chiselled  on  the 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS.  357 

shrines  of  Buddha,  and  of  the  Naga  worshippers ;  and  also  of 
the  footprints  of  tne  sacred  beast  Borak,  that  bore  Mohammad 
to  and  from  Al  Jannat,  as  witness  tlie  Saklirali  under  the  Dome 
of  the  Roek  on  the  other  side  of  the  Brook  Kedron. 

The  monks  have  treasured  other  precious  treasures  on  Olivet, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  so-called  Cave  of  Saint  Belagius,  who,  tra- 
dition says,  as  recorded  by  Sandys,  was  a  woman  of  Antioch  — 
Sandys  iises  the  word  "  prostitute,"  —  who,  in  the  disguise  of  a 
monk,  merged  her  name  of  Margaret  into  that  of  the  ancient 
founder  of  the  sect  of  Pelagians  (Pelagius  was  a  British  sectarian 
of  the  fifth  century) ;  and  having  ended  her  days  in  the  service 
of  the  church,  according  to  her  vows,  undiscovered  as  to  her  sex, 
was  honored  by  sepulture  in  this  cave  on  Olivet. 

Unfeeling  and  perhaps  jealous  Jews  declare  that  the  mortal 
remains  of  the  ever-famous  Huldah,  the  prophetess,  properly 
belong  in  the  large,  plain  sarcophagus  of  coarse  limestone  that  is 
shown  in  the  cave. 

Mohanimadans,  however,  who  have  a  profound  reverence  for  all 
ancient  worthies,  claim  the  remains  as  of  one  of  their  honored 
and  nameless  santons. 

The  remorseless  explorer  reads  on  a  rock  in  the  cave  an  in- 
scription in  old  Greek :  ''  Have  faith,  Domitella ;  no  human 
creature  is  immortal."  It  may  therefore  be  the  grave  of  some 
Greek  Christian  woman  of  the  early  ages  of  the  church.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

ChildJiood  of  Jesus.      View  from  SeppJioris. 

Nazareth  has  not  always  monopolized  the  traditions  relating  to 
the  childhood  of  Jesus.  Sepphoris,  a  small  place  now,  but  once 
the  largest  and  strongest  city  in  Galilee,  under  Herod  Antipas, 
having  many  synagogues,  a  provincial  Sanhedrin,  under  Gabinius, 
and  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  the  Great  Sanhedrin,  until 
it  went  to  Tiberias,  formerly  divided  the  honors  with  Kazareth. 
It  is  mentioned  in  history  since  then,  at  a  time  when  it  was 
destroyed  by  the  Romans,  a.d.  333;  and  in  the  sixtli  century  it 
was  visited  by  Antoninus  Martyr,  who  saw  a  cathedral  which 
was  built  on  the  spot  where  the  angel  saluted  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  it  afterwards  was  a  bishopric  of  Palaestina  Secunda;  and  it  is 
said  Joseph  and  Mary,  the  parents  of  Jesus,  lived  there.     It  was 


358  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

an  important  place  during  the  Crusades;  and  its  large  fountain,  a 
mile  or  more  south,  was  the  rendezvous  for  the  armies,  both 
Christian  and  Saracen.  The  tomb  of  the  celebrated  Rabbi,  Judah 
llakkodesh,  was  seen  by  Benjamin  of  Tudela.  A  ruin  on  the  hill 
marks  the  site  of  a  church  dedicated  to  the  Saints,  James  and 
Anna,  the  parents  of  the  Virgin  ]\Iary.  (The  house  of  Saint 
Anne,  at  Jerusalem,  is  one  of  the  sacred  localities  near  the 
Stephen  Gate.)  The  Greeks  have  used  a  part  of  the  ruin  as  a 
chapel  not  long  since,  and  they  tell  many  stories  of  wonderful 
works  in  connection  with  a  picture  of  Saint  George,  which  has 
disappeared. 

Mount  Hermon  is  in  plain  view,  but  the  dark  ridge  of  Hattin 
and  the  hights  of  Safed  hide  its  base ;  and  also  Lake  Huleh  and 
the  north  end  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The  mountain  has  its  winter 
robes  on.  In  the  View  from  Et  Taiyibeh  (Ephraim)  the  summer 
aspect  is  shown.  The  plain  of  Buttauf,  the  ancient  Zebulon,  is 
very  rich  in  soil  and  beautiful  with  flowers.  Its  fields  of  grain 
give  promise  of  wealth  which  is  not  always  fulfilled;  for  the 
Bedawin  and  the  tax-gatherer  are  both  insatiable. 

Josephus  (Life,  67)  says  he  practised  a  stratagem  against  the 
Galileans  at  Sepphoris  to  save  it  from  pillage.  The  site  is  all 
that  would  be  required  for  such  a  ruse ;  for  the  hill  on  which  the 
ruins  stand  is  rounded,  and  a  company  at  one  end  would  have 
no  knowledge  of  another  at  the  opposite  end  or  side  of  the  hill  or 
city  wall.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

The  Apostles'  Fountain,  near  Bethany  East, 

A  little  more  than  a  mile  east  of  Bethany,  over  a  road  that  is 
very  steep  and  stony,  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  is  a  shelter  of  stone- 
work arched  over  a  fountain,  which  receives  water  from  a  spring 
a  few  hundred  feet  away  in  a  hollow  of  the  hill.  This  is  called 
"The  Fountain  of  the  Apostles."  Tradition  says  they  often 
tarried  there  for  drink,  rest,  and  conversation.  The  apostles 
have  their  imitators  in  this  custom,  if  in  nothing  else,  among  all 
sorts  of  people  who  travel  eastward  from  El  Koods. 

The  water  is  sweet  and  abundant,  and  the  verdure  along  the 
little  brook  is  bright  green  and  very  luxuriant.  Flowers  in  great 
variety  beautify  the  little  oasis.  The  water  from  this  spring 
flows  down  the  gorge  that  leads  by  the  site  of  the  traditional  Inn 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGIiAVlNGS.  359 

of  the  Good  Samaritan ;  and  the  road  is  shaded  in  some  places 
by  great  rocks  or  cliffs,  where  robbers  still  lie  in  wait.  Those 
who  pay  tribute  to  the  Shayk  of  the  Bedawins  of  Jericho  are  not 
molested.  Others  are  required  to  lend  a  few  things  to  "  our  uncle 
in  the  desert." 

There  are  no  marks  of  antiquity  about  the  fountain,  although 
the  water  may  have  flowed  there  for  many  ages.  The  stones  are 
small  and  biiilt  up  in  modern  style.  Tlie  i)Ool  is  spacious, — ^  per- 
haps ten  or  twelve  feet  across,  —  but  shallow.  Sandys  (1610  a.d., 
p.  169)  says  the  Apostles'  Fountain,  in  his  day,  was  high  up  on 
the  slope  of  Olivet,  between  Bethany  and  Jerusalenio  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Gersa  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee  (Matt.  viii.  28). 

Between  the  conflicting  statements  of  Matthew  (viii.  28),  who 
says  Gergesa,  and  Mark  (v.  1),  who  has  Gadara,  and  various  read- 
ings of  those  two  and  of  Luke  (viiio  26),  which  give  Geresa,  com- 
mentators have  halted  in  utter  inability  to  fix  on  the  site  of  the 
event  of  the  swine  rushing  into  the  sea.  From  Origen  down  to 
the  present  no  one  has  offered  a  solutioii  of  the  puzzle,  until  Dr. 
W.  H.  Thomson  (Land  and  Book,  ii.  34)  suggested  the  site  a 
view  of  which  is  engraved  in  this  work. 

The  Arabs  call  the  place  Kersa  or  Gersa,  and  Mr.  Thomson 
identifies  it  with  the  ancient  Gergesa,  and  he  would  so  correct 
the  reading  of  the  text  of  the  other  Synoptics. 

The  site  of  the  city  —  or  village  rather,  for  it  is  not  large  —  is 
very  favorable  for  scenery,  and  high  enough  above  the  lake  to 
give  extensive  views.  The  whole  country  east  of  the  Sea  of 
Galilee  is  a  sort  of  paradise  for  hogs,  as  some  of  the  names  indi- 
cate. Tel  el  Khanzir  (Ruin  of  Boarville)  is  a  well-known  locality 
a  few  miles  east  of  the  site  of  Gersa.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Sending  forth  the  Seventy.     Harosheth,  from  Carmel. 

This  view  is  in  the  pass  a  half  mile  southeast  of  the  castle 
called  by  the  Arabs  "  Harothieh,"  which  is  held  to  be  the  Haro- 
sheth of  the  Gentiles,  alluded  to  in  the  story  of  Deborah,  Barak, 
and  Sisera  in  the  Book  of  Judges  (iv.  13,  16). 

A  part  of  the  plain  of  Esdraelon  is  seen  in  the  distance,  and 
to  the  left  the  mountain  tops  over  Nazareth. 


360  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

The  pass  at  the  castle  is  only  between  one  hundred  and  two 
hundred  feet  wide,  for  both  river  and  road ;  near  and  at  the  site 
of  Harosheth,  which  is  on  a  double  hill,  are  the  remains  of  walls, 
foundations,  and  ditches  which  show  that  the  place  at  one  time 
must  have  been  of  great  strength  and  military  importance,  as 
commanding  the  road  by  Kishon  which  was  the  natural  way 
into  the  plain  of  Esdraelon. 

The  modern  village  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  a  little 
way  southeast. 

Any  one  on  the  way  to  Acre  from  Samaria,  or  further  south, 
would  naturally  take  this  route  as  direct  and  avoiding  the  hill 
country.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Lake  of  Gennesareth. 

In  the  Book  of  Maccabees  it  is  Genasor,  and  Gennesar ;  in  the 
Old  Testament  it  was  Cinneroth,  and  Chinnereth;  and  in  the 
New  Testament  Gennesaret.  The  Hebrews  varied  the  Greek 
form  of  the  name  to  Geenesor.  The  Arabs  say  Bahr  Tubariyeh, 
which  is  their  rendering  of  the  Eoman  name.  Lake  of  Tiberias. 

Nearly  all  of  the  public  life  of  Jesus  is  laid  in  the  vicinity  of 
this  lake,  at  a  time  when,  according  to  Josephus,  and  the  evidence 
of  the  many  ruined  sites  of  towns,  a  very  numerous  population 
lived  on  its  shores. 

The  lake  is  of  sweet  water,  fourteen  miles  long  by  six  and  one- 
half  wide,  and  is  oval  in  shape.  The  surface  of  the  water  is  G82 
feet  below  the  ocean  leveL  Snow  is  seen  very  seldom,  and  the 
climate  is  almost  tropical.  The  shore  is  gravelly,  and  scattered 
profusely  with  small  spiral  shells.  Oleanders  whose  shade 
measures  one  hundred  feet  diameter  abound  in  the  vicinity. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol  i. ;   8vo  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Papyrus  Meeds  in  the  Marsh  of  Huleh. 
The  Huleh  is  only  about  a  mile  across  the  open  water,  and  is 
three-sided,  the  point  to  the  south.  The  marsh  is  much  wider 
and  is  full  of  papyrus  (babeer)  reeds,  whose  roots  form  masses 
that  float  on  water  of  uncertain  depth.  From  the  dry  land  to 
the  reeds  the  boggy  swamp  is  spotted  with  water-lilies  (Nuphar 
lutea,  and  Nymphcea  alba)  and  many  other  flowers ;  but  the  in- 
terest and  glory  of  the  marsh  is  the  true  Egyptian  papyrus  {P. 
antiquorum),  which  forms  a  miniature  forest  of  brooms,  among 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  361 

which  may  be  seen  many  herons,  —  white  and  gray,  purple  and 
puff-backed,  bitterns  great  and  little,  purple  gallinules,  marble 
ducks,  egrets,  cranes,  pelicans,  and  other  birds,  which  must  find 
an  abundance  of  food,  for  they  flock  there  in  countless  numbers. 

This  is  the  largest  field  of  papyrus  known,  and  it  is  many 
times  larger  than  any  in  Egypt,  where  the  plant  was  once  so 
plentiful. 

The  Arabs  of  the  Huleh  plain,  north  of  the  marsh,  have  the 
best  land  and  the  worst  reputation  in  all  Palestine ;  but  they 
have  of  late  years  treated  American  travelers  very  kindly.  (Imp. 
ed.,  vol.  i. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Syrian  and  Egyptian  Wheat  Ears. 
The  Syrian  variety  is  that  on  the  left  in  the  engraving ;  the 
Egyptian  is  more  irregular,  but  has  larger  and  a  greater  number 
of  kernels.  It  is  said  that  some  kernels  of  wheat  found  wrapped 
in  a  mummy  case,  where  they  must  have  lain  two  to  five  thou- 
sand years,  had  preserved  their  vitality  and  grew  when  planted. 
The  desert  has  been  barren  of  many  kinds,  if  not  quite  of  all  vege- 
tation, from  an  unknown  remote  antiquity;  yet  when  water  is 
supplied  from  an  artesian  well,  as  has  been  done  in  Algeria  and 
Tunis,  grasses,  and  a  thousand  kinds  of  plants  and  shrubs  and 
trees,  start  up  at  once.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  i.) 

Phylactery .     TephUlah  on  the  Arm. 

"Phylacteria  "  is  the  Greek  word,  and  "totaphoth"  is  the  He- 
brew equivalent,  meaning  ligaments.  It  is  mentioned  only  in 
four  texts :  Ex.  xiii.  16 ;  Deut.  vi.  8  ;  xi.  18 ;  Matt,  xxiii.  5  ;  and 
the  last  reference  is  the  one  to  our  purpose.  The  Pharisees  made 
their  phylacteries  broad,  as  a  hypocritical  show  of  extreme  regard 
for  the  Torah  (divine  law). 

It  is  now  accepted  as  the  true  intent  of  the  writer,  in  Exodus 
and  Deuteronomy,  to  impress  the  sacredness  and  importance  of 
the  law  on  the  hearts  of  his  people,  that  they  should  seem  to  see 
them  as  if  written  on  a  tablet.  If  the  law  had  been  actually 
written  on  parchment  and  bound  on  the  arm  ('Hephillah,"  on  the 
arm)  or  on  the  forehead  ("  tephillah,"  on  the  head),  they  could 
not  have  been  read. 

The  four  passages  from  the  Old  Testament  were  written  on 
one  piece  for  the  arm,  and  on  four  pieces  for  the  forehead,  in 


362  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

each  case  on  a  skin  expressly  prepared  for  that  use.  For  the 
arm  the  written  parchment  was  rolled  and  placed  in  a  case  of 
black  calfskin  ;  for  the  head  the  four  strips  of  parchment  must 
be  of  the  cow's  skin,  and  each  strip  put  in  a  cell  of  a  case  of  four, 
on  which  the  letter  sin  (s)  is  written.  The  strap  for  the  arm  was 
never  less  than  three  or  four  inches  wide,  and  about  twenty-seven 
inches  long.  The  square  case  for  the  head  had  two  thongs  long 
enough  to  tie  around  the  head  and  hang  crossed  on  the  breast. 

They  were  a  ready  means  of  religious  vanity  and  display. 

In  the  Talmud  we  read  :  "  Whosoever  has  tephilim  on  his  head 
is  fortified  against  sin,  and  also  has  a  guard  against  danger." 

The  word  "  tephillah  "  is  not  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  is  an 
invention  of  the  Talmudists.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Tribute-money  found  in  the  Mouth  of  a  Fish  at  Capernaum. — 
Matt.  xvii.  27.  Tetradrachm  (4  drachms)  of  Antiochus 
III.  Drawn  from  a  Coin  in  the  Collection  of  William  C. 
Prime. 

Both  Greek  and  Koman  money  were  used  in  Palestine  under 
the  Roman  rule.  The  value  of  this  four-drachm  piece  was  about 
sixty  cents.  This  coin  was  struck  between  the  years  226  and  222 
B.  c,  in  the  ninetieth  year  of  the  Era  of  the  Seleucidae  (the 
Greek  kings  who  succeeded  Alexander  the  Great  in  Syria). 

Antiochus  the  Great  left  a  vast  number  of  coius,  struck  in 
many  cities  where  the  privilege  of  minting  had  been  granted. 
The  most  common  type  was,  as  here,  a  head  of  the  king,  the  hair 
cut  short,  slightly  curled,  and  bound  by  a  ribbon  as  a  diadem. 
On  the  reverse  a  figure  of  Apollo,  seated  on  a  basket,  with  a  bow 
in  the  left  and  an  arrow  in  the  right  hand,  between  two  lines  of 
inscription,  in  Greek,  "  of  King  Antiochus,"  and  a  mint  mark. 
(Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

The  Lost  and  Found  Piece  of  Silver.  —  Luke  xv.  8.  Drachma. 
From  a  Coin  loaned  by  W.  C.  Prime. 

Head  of  Hercules  in  the  lion's  skin :  Zeus  seated  on  a  throne, 
holding  an  eagle  on  his  I'ight  hand,  and  a  staff  in  his  left.  In- 
scription, "Of  Alexander"  (ALEXANDRTOV.) 

This  piece  of  Greek  money  was  equal  in  value  to  the  Roman 
penny  (denarius).     (Imp.  ed.  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS.  363 

Parable  of  the  Ten  Talents.     Shekel  (W.  C.  P.). 

The  privilege  of  minting  coins  was  granted  first  to  the  Jews, 
or  to  tlie  high-priest,  Simon  the  Maccabee,  b.  c.  139.  The 
inscription  is  in  Samaritan  letters,  and  is  read  on  the  obverse, 
"  Shekel  of  Israel,"  around  a  cup  (supposed  to  refer  to  the  manna) 
with  the  letter  a  over  it  for  the  year  one.  On  the  reverse  : 
"Jerusalem  the  Holy,"  around  a  triple  hyacinth,  or  lily,  or,  as 
some  suppose,  Aaron's  budded  I'od,  —  that  is,  three  almond  blos- 
soms.    Others  think  they  were  ponaegranate  buds. 

The  shekel  was  worth  about  fifty  cents.  The  half-shekel  'vvas 
the  yearly  tribute  of  every  mature  man  of  the  Jews  to  the  temple 
treasury. 

The  word  "  shekel "  is  not  Hebrew,  but  probably  Assyrian. 

Money  was  coined  by  the  successors  of  the  high-priest  Simon 
as  late  as  Barcokheba,  the  last  leader  in  the  last  revolt  against  the 
Romans.  They  have  as  types  baskets  of  fruits,  palm-trees,  palm 
branch,  cornucopia,  citron,  olive  wreath,  rose,  anchor,  eight-rayed 
star,  tripod,  Macedonian  helmet ;  also  shield,  prow  of  ship,  five- 
oared  boat,  bunch  of  grapes,  helmet  with  horsetails,  wheat-heads, 
vine-leaf,  temple  with  four  columns,  bunch  of  plants,  star,  lyre 
with  six  strings,  vase  simple,  vase  with  two  handles,  vase  with 
two  handles  and  cover. 

Many  forgeries  of  pretended  Hebrew  coins  have  been  made, 
but  they  have  all  been  exposed.  No  genuine  coin  of  Hebrew 
ancient  work  has  letters  in  Hebrew,  for  they  are  all  in  the  Samar- 
itan style  of  writing. 

"  Made  "  shekels  are  offered  travelers  in  Palestine  at  ridicu- 
lously low  prices,  very  little  higher  than  the  value  of  the  silver; 
and  thousands  are  sold.  Experts  detect  them  easily.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

The  Widow^s  Mite.  Two  Lepta,  which  is  a  Quadrans.  A 
Penny  of  Pontius  Pilate.  From  the  Collection  of  W.  C. 
Prime. 

The  inscription  is  read  :  "  Of  Tiberius  Caesar,"  lis,  for  year 
16-17,  A.  D.  29,  around  a  sacred  vessel  of  the  temple.  Reverse: 
three  ears  of  wheat,  or  leaves,  and  Julia  Csesaress  (wife  of 
Tiberius).     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


364  DESCRIPTION  OF   THE  ENGRAVINGS. 

Betrayal  hy  Judas.  Piece  op  Money  paid  Judas.  Tctra- 
drachm  of  Augustus  Caesar.  Loaned  by  W.  C.  Prime. 
Augustus  granted  to  Antioch  the  privilege  of  coining  money, 
and  this  coin  bears  an  inscription  in  Greek  letters  around  a 
head  of  the  Caesar,  and  on  the  reverse  an  emblem  of  the  city  of 
Antioch,  with  one  foot  on  the  emblem  of  the  river  Orontes,  sur- 
rounded by  the  inscription  :  "  The  IMetropolis  of  the  Antiochians." 
A  sanctuary  of  Apollo  near  Antioch  was  named  Daphne,  and  in 
Maccabees  (2  Mac.  iv,  33)  the  city  is  called  "  Antioch  by  Daphne." 
This  city  has  a  history  that  is  very  interesting  to  Christians. 
It  was  founded  by  Seleucus  Nikator  (victor),  300  b.  c,  who  was 
a  general  in  Alexander's  army.  The  Roman  general,  Pompey, 
captured  it  b.  c.  64,  and  it  became  a  province  of  the  empire.  The 
name  "  Christians  "  was  first  given  to  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  and 
the  Apostles,  at  Antioch.  It  was  long  known  as  "The  Queen  of 
the  East."  It  has  been  captured  by  the  Persians  under  Chosroes 
(a.  d.  540),  the  Greeks  under  Heraclius  (a.  d.  622),  Saracens 
(a.  d.  638),  Greeks  under  Phocas  (a.  d.  966),  Crusaders  (a.  d.  1098), 
and  Turks  (a.  d.  1516)  ;  and  damaged  by  earthquakes  in  a.  d.  115, 
340,  394,  396,  458,  526,  588.     (Imp.  ed.,  vol.  ii. ;  Svo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 

Shoiv  me  the  Tribute  Money.  Denarius.  From  an  Ancient 
Coin  in  the  artist's  possession. 

The  most  common  piece  of  Roman  money  was  the  denarius, 
which  we  call  the  penny.  Its  value  was  about  fifteen  cents. 
The  usual  price  of  a  day's  work,  and  the  pay  of  a  soldier,  was  a 
penny,  and  at  one  time,  under  the  emperor  Tiberius,  a  penny  was 
the  rate  of  tribute.  This  coin  is  a  penny  of  Tiberius,  and  bears 
the  head  of  that  emperor,  and  his  name  and  title  on  one  side, 
which,  if  distinct,  would  be  «TI  CAESAR  F  DIVI  AVGVST." 
Tn  English,  "Tiberius  Caesar,  son  of  the  deified  Augustus." 

On  the  other  side  :  a  figure  of  the  goddess  Roma,  around  which 
are  the  words,  "PONTIF  MAXIM,"  meaning  High  Priest;  that 
is,  the  Head  of  the  Church,  or  national  religion.  This  dignity 
was  conferred  on  theomperors,  some  of  whom  actually  qualified 
themselves  for  the  duties,  and  occupied  the  office.  (Imp.  ed., 
vol.  ii. ;  8vo  ed.,  vol.  ii.) 


ANALYTICAL    INDEX. 

VOL.  II. 


Abraham,  Clirist  before,  122. 
Adulter n,  woman  taken  in,  109  ;  Clirist's 

condemnation  of  the  sin,  110 ;  pardon 

for,  111. 
Alabaster  bo.K  of  ointment.     See  Simon 

the  Leper. 
"Are  there  few  that  be  saved  ?  "  150  ; 

spirit  and  pliilosophy  of  Christ's  re- 
ply, 150. 
Aristotle,  Christ  and,  222. 
Asceticism,  self-conceit  of,  22. 
Atonement,  what  is  the,  21. 
Authority,  disciples  assumhig  a  false,  86. 
Autumnal,  last  months  of  Christ's  life 

were,  107. 
Barabbas  for  Christ,  243. 
Bartimeus,  healing  of  blind,  177. 
Belhabara,  144. 
Bethany,  the  home  at,  130;  Martha  and 

Mary   described,   1.32;    the   highest 

ideal  a  union  of  both  natures,  133. 
Bless'nn/s  come  noiselessly,  281. 
Blind  man  at  the  temple  healed,  123  ; 

and  cast  out  of  the  synagogue,  125. 
Blind  men  healed,  26. 
Boats  on  sea  of  Galilee  probably  same 

as  now,  4. 
Brotherhood  of  Christians,  31. 
Capernaum,   14 ;    Levi's    feast   at,    15 ; 

Mark's  characterization  of  company, 

16. 
Ceremonial  in  Judaism,  52. 
Child,  a  text  symbol,  84. 
Children,  Christ's  love  for,  85;  death 

of,  87. 


Children,  pleading  for,  all  powerful,  25, 

Creeds,  the  only  good  one,  227 ;  char- 
acterization of,  227  ;  conflict  of,  228 

Cross,  the,  strange  nearness  to  a  garden 
262. 

Crucifixion,  scenes  preceding,  248 ;  bar 
barous  treatment  of  Ciirist,  248 
simple  story  of  the  end,  253  ;  how  to 
write  it,  254;  witnesses  andspecta 
tors  of,  254;  events  subsequent  to 
255 ;  angels  at  the  tomb,  255 ;  tlieir 
silence,  255 ;  effectiveness  and  nat 
uralness  of  narration,  256 ;  quiet 
after  the  storm,  256. 

Deathless,  the  believer  is,  122. 

DecapoUs,  region  of,  58. 

Dedication,  feast  of,  141. 

Demoniac  of  Gergesa,  8 ;  the  dumb  de- 
moniac, 27. 

Demonic  influences  and  miracles  re- 
jected by  scientists,  10 ;  theory  of, 
11;  effects  of  demonic  mania,  12; 
Christ  accepted  current  belief  in,  12  ; 
modern  spiritualistic  impulses,  13. 

Difficulties,  solving,  a  means  of  grace, 
2.30. 

Disciples  awed  and  dazed  after  the 
crucifixion,  260;  still  loved,  260; 
their  reverential  care  of  his  body, 
261 ;  the  two  Marys  at  sepulchre,  262 ; 
its  meaning  to  them,  266;  hopeless 
but  lingering,  267. 

Discipleship  volunteered,  95 

Discouises  of  Christ  not  continuous,  118. 

Divinity    of     Christ     conspicuous 


366 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX. 


chiefly  towards  the  close  of  his  life, 
108;  liis  chiim,  113;  incomprehen- 
sible to  the  Jews,  114;  accompanied 
by  tranquillity  of  soul,  11(5 ;  presence 
of  divinity  is  its  proof,  117;  author's 
personal  views,  202. 

Douil,  elements  wliich  settle,  226 ;  papal 
authority  and,  226. 

Duty  an  excuse  for  avoiding  duty,  95. 

Eating  and  drinking  with  sinners,  sig- 
nificance of,  17. 

Emmaus,  Christ  joins  disciples,  278 ; 
the  greatest  commentary  lost,  279. 

Excommunication,  effects  of,  in  Jewish 
Cliurch,  125. 

Faith,  Christ's  definition,  81 ;  as  a  grain 
of  nmstard  seed,  IGO ;  figurative, 
161 ;  connection  with  foigivcness  of 
enemies,  161 ;  prayer  for  faitii  the 
heart's  outcry,  102. 

Fanaticism,  baleful  influence  of,  27. 

Fasting;  Christ's  views  of,  22. 

Flesh  and  spirit,  conflict  of,  231. 

Forgiveness,  doctrine  of,  88. 

Forgiveness  of  Injuries  difficult,  160 ; 
Christ's  command,  160. 

Francia's  picture  of  the  two  angels  at 
the  sepulchre,  268 

Future  Stale,  very  little  taught  about  it 
in  Bible,  194. 

Gndara,  7. 

Galilee,  Christ  lingering  in,  94 ;  Christ's 
yearning  for,  after  the  resurrection, 
269. 

Galilee,  sea  of,  as  Jesus  beheld  it,  62  ; 
storm,  5  ;  Thomson's  description,  5 ; 
Rob  Roy's,  6. 

Genesareth,  now  and  then,  44. 

Gergesa,  6. 

Gethsemane,  a  place  of  loving  associa- 
tions, 235. 

Gonrl  Samaritan,  parable,  136. 

Good  Shepherd,  parable  of,  when  de- 
livered, 123. 

Gratitude  called  for  by  spiritual  bene- 
fits, 34. 

Greatest,  who  shall  be,  175 ;  disciples 
human  and  weak,  175. 


Hating  father  and  mother,  what  is 
meant,  156. 

Herman,  Mount,  scenery  of,  71. 

Herod  perplexed,  38;  curious  to  see 
Jesus,  3H  ;  explanation,  38  ;  leaven 
of,  54  ;  conciliated  by  Pilate,  241 ; 
curiosity  to  see  Jesus.  241 ;  his  anger 
at  Christ's  silence,  242  ;  heaping  in- 
dignities on  Christ,  242;  referred 
him  back  to  Pila-te,  242. 

Hjipocrisg,  leaven  of,  54. 

Immortalitji  recognized  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, 195 ;  not  explicitly  taught, 
195. 

Inspiration,  harmony  with  God,  100. 

Jairus,  daughter  of,  24;  healing  of, 
26. 

Jericho,  way  to,  described,  137. 

Jerusalem,  a  talismanic  word  to  the 
Jews,  92  ;  suppressed  excitement  in, 
before  the  arrest  of  Christ,  98 ; 
scenes  of  the  Feast  of  the  Taber- 
nacles, 103  ;  the  national  home,  184  ; 
Christ's  appearance  there  after  the 
resurrection,  283. 

Jesus,  the  Christ,  his  love  of  retire- 
ment, 1,  89;  his  loneliness,  3;  iiis 
."sympathy  with  the  fallen,  21 ;  in- 
tensely natural,  21 ;  his  views  on 
fasting,  22 ;  joyf ulness  of  disposi- 
tion, 23;  his  denunciation  of  the 
prevailing  religion,  23;  his  numer- 
ous and  profound  discourses,  23 ; 
motive  for  delays  in  healing,  26 ; 
his  hold  upon  the  moral  sense  of 
the  Jewish  nation,  29;  reliance  upon 
spiritual  elements  of  his  ministr}',  30; 
his  fervid  activity,  30 ;  miraculous 
powers,  41 ;  discernment  of  motives, 
44  ;  assumption  of  divine  authority, 
46 ;  prescience  of  coming  tribula- 
tion, 61  ;  Messiahship  of,  67 ;  pow- 
er of  his  look,  68 ;  depression  in 
spirit  of,  69 ;  the  rejected  of  men, 
69 ;  spiritual  preparation  for  final 
mission,  82 ;  his  last  teachings  at 
first  confusing  to  the  disciples,  83 ; 
moral  greatness  of,  86 ;  his  desire  to 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX. 


307 


avoid  publicity  misunderstood,  93 ; 
homeless,  95 ;  disputes  concerning 
him,  98 ;  his  discourses  in  the  tem- 
ple, 99 ;  personal  risks,  101 ;  his  re- 
ply to  the  officers  sent  to  arrest  liini, 
102  ;  rage  of  the  rulers  against  him, 
105;  conscious  divinity  of,  107  ;  con- 
spicuous towards  close  of  life,  108 ; 
claim  of  divinity,  113  ;  incomprehen- 
sible to  the  Jews,  114;  his  profound 
calmness  in  dealing  with  higliest 
truths,  116;  emancipates  from  sin, 
118 ;  his  classification  of  men  by 
their  natures,  121 ;  predicts  his  own 
deatli,  127;  his  possible  household 
life,  129 ;  fondness  for  children  and 
sympathy  with  humanity,  130 ;  sees 
the  triumph  of  good  over  evil,  140, 
and  his  own  supremacy,  140;  men's 
opinions  of  Christ  fluctuating,  141 ; 
assertion  of  oneness  with  the  Father, 
143 ;  his  works  a  testimony  to  his 
divinity,  143  ;  attractive  and  winning 
in  his  personality,  150  ;  effect  of  his 
teaching  often  evanescent,  151 ;  main 
purpose  of  his  teaching,  151  ;  his 
style  of  thought  and  expression  not 
simple  and  literal,  153 ;  appeals  to 
moral  sense,  162  ;  taught  ciiiefly  a- 
foot,  162 ;  undisturbed  in  view  of  his 
approaching  crucifixion,  211 ;  sym- 
pathy with  helplessness,  216  ;  lumi- 
nous hours,  220;  strangeness  of  his 
mission,  222;  absence  of  literary  ef- 
fort, 222 ;  his  work  a  new  work,  ap- 
parently no  provision  for  its  future 
conduct,  223  ;  left  his  disciples  help- 
less, 228 ;  what  might  have  been, 
224  ;  philosophy  of  tliis  subject,  225; 
why  not  still  on  earth,  227  ;  his  dig- 
nity in  suffering,  249 ;  utterly  for- 
saken, 249 ;  his  great  love,  liis  ex- 
altation in  suffering,  250;  his  hour 
of  grandeur,  250 ;  his  pre-eminence 
in  history,  251 ;  different  modes  of 
manifesting  himself  to  different  dis- 
ciples,—  Mary,  Thomas,  Paul,  etc., 
278. 


Jewish  opposition  to  Christ,  51. 

Jewish  Relitjion,  root  sound,  29. 

Jewish  system  in  its  decadence  a  sys- 
tem of  externalities,  150. 

Jews,  spiritual  illegitimacy  of,  119; 
prevalence  of  sinful  dispositions  and 
habits  among  tiie  educated,  120; 
children  of  tiie  devil,  121;  would 
stone  Christ,  122,  143. 

John  Baptist,  belieading,  37;  effect 
of  news  on  Jesus,  38 ;  difference  be- 
tween his  mission  and  Christ's,  188. 

John  the  Evangelist,  his  sympathy 
with  Christ's  emotions,  4. 

Jordan,  sources  of,  64. 

Judcea,  the  scene  of  Christ's  last  dis- 
courses, 128. 

Judas  Iscariot,  his  view  of  the  break- 
ing of  the  alabaster  box,  215;  Jolin's 
curt  explanation,  215;  making  over- 
tures to  the  Jews,  218;  his  betrayal 
of  Christ,  238  ;  and  Pilate  compared, 
247  ;  remorse  of,  2t)0. 

Judgment,  parable  of  the,  208;  com- 
ments and  lessons,  208 ;  absence  of 
ordinary  tests,  209  ;  not  spoken  to  a 
select  audience,  210  ;  humanity  dear 
to  God,  211. 

Keys,  the,  66. 

Kindness  to  evil  men,  what  it  means, 
19. 

Knowledge,  why  not  given  outright,  2.30. 

Last  scenes  of  Christ's  life,  defy  expo- 
sition, 220  ;  characterization  of,  220  ; 
conversations  and  discourses  a  sacred 
love-lore,  220 ;  his  departure  fore- 
told. 221. 

Lazarus,  Christ's  love  of,  181. 

Lazarus,  the  Raising  of,  a  second  trans- 
figuration, 145;  why  Christ  lingered 
beyond  Jordan,  146 ;  unlooked  for, 
148;  narrative  confined  to  imme- 
diate facts,  149 ;  aroused  hostility 
among  the  rulers,  149  ;  Christ's 
movements  after  this  event,  150. 

leaven  of  Herod,  54  ;  of  Pharisees,  G3. 

Light,  a  sacred  symbol,  112;  Christ  the 
light  of  the  world,  112. 


3G8 


ANALYTICAL  INDEX. 


Loneliness  the  central  element  of  suffer- 
ing in  Christ,  2J36. 

Lord's  Prayer,  the,  jiivotal  petition  of, 
157. 

Miifjdula,  61. 

Manner  of  Clirist's  last  discourses  in 
Jerusalem,  100. 

Marriage  not  in  the  future  state,  194. 

Martha,  mourning  for  Lazarus,  147  ; 
her  characteristic  expostulation  at 
the  grave,  148. 

Mary  at  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  147. 

Mary  Magdalkne,  at  sepulciire,  273; 
signiticance  of  licr  question,  274 ; 
Clirist  appears  to,  274  ;  why  she  did 
not  recognize  him,  274  ;  why  she  was 
not  to  touch  Christ,  276. 

Messia/iship,  misconceptions  of  the,  67. 

Milkji  way  of  New  Testament,  206. 

Miracles,  reality  of,  not  questioned, 
27  ;  what  are  they,  228 ;  and  natural 
law,  228;  Christ's,  never  self-seek- 
ing, 229 ;  of  the  five  loaves  and  two 
fishes,  40  ;  impossibility  of  illusion, 
41 ;  coruscations  of,  41 ;  walking  on 
the  sea,  43 ;  auxiliary  to  the  moral 
sense,  43 ;  licaling  daugliter  of  Gentile 
woman,  57 ;  healing  of  deaf-mute, 
59;  second  miraculous  feeding  of 
the  multitude,  60 ;  blind  man  at 
Bethsaida,  63;  demonic  possession, 
79 ;  tribute  money,  83 ;  ten  lepers, 
96  ;  blind  man  at  temple,  123  ;  blind 
Bartimeus  healed,  177;  horrors  of 
blindness,  178 ;  blindness  and  beg- 
gary, 178;  hope  enkindled,  180;  re- 
buke of  spectators,  181 ;  importunity, 
182  ;  his  need  very  plain  to  iiim,  182  ; 
inward  illumination  as  well  as  out- 
ward, 183. 

Mission  of  the  disciples,  peculiarities  of, 
32  ;  their  support,  33 ;  limitation  to 
Jews  and  reasons  for,  34  ;  special  en- 
dorsement of,  35  ;  cautions  and  coun- 
sels in  relation  to,  30;  encourage- 
ments in,  37 ;  report  of  the  Seventy, 
1.39. 

Moral    Affinities,   their    unerring    cer- 


tainty, 142;  aside  from  logical  de- 
ductions, 142. 

Moral  Convictions,  crime  of  resisting, 
35. 

Moral  Development,  Christ  the  centre 
of,  86. 

Neighbor,  who  is  mj',  136. 

NicoDEMUS  questioning  the  legality  of 
the  arrest  of  Christ,  105. 

Ointments  and  anointings,  reason  for, 
212. 

Olives,  Mount  of,  205;  Christ's  choice 
of  particular  place  on,  233 ,  for  his 
arrest,  234;  companions,  234;  dis- 
ciples helpless  but  sympathetic,  236  ; 
Christ's  compassionate  excuse  for 
them,  237. 

Oriental  customs  rebuked,  31. 

Palestine,  seasons  of,  90. 

Parables  of  Jesus,  spontaneous,  135 ; 
good  shepherd,  123;  prodigal  son, 
108;  good  .'Samaritan,  135;  man  dis- 
turbed at  midnight,  138;  widow  and 
unjust  judge,  1.38 ;  lost  coin  and  lost 
sheep,  purport  of,  159;  definition  of 
parable,  163  ;  not  always  to  be  taken 
literally,  163;  connections  not  easily 
perceived,  205  ;  wise  and  foolish  vir- 
gins, 207;  man  travelling  into  far 
country,  207  ;  the  judgment,  208. 

Parental  Instinct  a  clew  to  the  divine 
treatment  of  sinners,  18. 

Passover,  approach  of  last,  184  ;  cruel 
designs  of  rulers,  184 ;  Christ  ap- 
pears on  the  scene,  185 ;  liis  popu- 
larity a  defence,  186 ;  conflicts  and 
collisions,  188;  preparation  for,  219. 

Pedantry,  spiritual,  a  vice  of  every  age, 
99. 

Perfection  not  among  men,  168. 

Personal  God,  influence  of  faith  in, 
37. 

Personal  Sympathy,  best  cure  for  evil, 
20. 

Peter  portrayed,  271 ;  and  John  con- 
trasted, 271;  rashness  of,  43  ;  enthu- 
siasm of,  49,  66. 

Pharisees, the  views  of,about  Matthew's 


ANA  LYTI CAL  INDEX. 


3GU 


feast,  16 ;  characterization  of,  18 ; 
accusing  Christ  of  demonic  posses- 
sion, 27  ;  derived  no  satisfaction  from 
Christ's  good  deeds,  28 ;  inconsis- 
tency of,  100 ;  sense  of  sin  wanting, 
191 ;  proud  of  their  outward  piety, 
191  ;  their  hypocrisy,  192 ;  yet 
among  the  best  of  people,  197  ; 
origin  of,  198;  why  severity  neces- 
sary, 199;  their  scrupulous  observ- 
ance of  lesser  matters,  199  ;  blind  to 
the  issues  of  their  age.  201 ;  some 
were  believers  in  Christ,  201 ;  the  ma- 
jority rejected  him,  202;  explanation 
of  seeming  cowardice  of  the  former, 
203. 

Pietjj,  sometimes  strangely  consorted, 
191. 

Pilate,  willing  that  the  Jews  should 
try  Jesus,  239  ;  why  not,  239  ;  satis- 
fied, 240;  his  impressions  of  Christ, 
240 ;  politic  conduct  of,  241 ;  the  ac- 
cusation of  Christ  before,  242 ;  sug- 
gesting a  compromise,  243  ;  efforts 
to  release  Christ  not  acceptable  to 
Jews,  244 ;  afraid  of  an  appeal  to 
Caesar,  244;  what  an  honest  judge 
would  have  done,  244  ;  temporizing, 
245 ;  shifting  responsibility,  246 ;  his 
awful  guilt,  247. 

Plato,  Christ  and,  222. 

Plough,  looking  back  from,  96. 

Popular  Enthusiasm  for  Christ,  culmi- 
nation of,  41;  desire  to  make  him 
king,  42 ;  impatience  at  his  spiritual 
teachings,  46  ;  misconceptions  of 
truth,  47 ;  enthusiasm  renewed  on 
his  last  journey,  95. 

Pocertij,  prevalent  in  our  Lord's  day, 
157. 

Prayer,  what  is  it,  42  ;  Christ  often  en- 
grossed in,  137  ;  importunity  in,  illus- 
trated, 138  ;  deductions  from,  138  ; 
Christ  does  not  mark  limits  of,  139; 
nor  philosophize,  139. 

Pre-eminence,  love  for,  84 ;  greatness 
defined,  84  ;  ambition  blinding,  86. 

Prerogatives  of  good  men,  88. 
VOL.  II.  —  24 


Prodi()(il   Son,  parable   shows   deepest 

element  of  divine  government,  108. 
Proi-idence,  particular,  37. 
Public  sentin)ent  regarding  Christ,  65. 
Publicans  and  harlots  contrasted  witli 

Pharisees,  189  ;  true  meaning,  190. 
Questions    addressed    to    Christ,   often 
quoted    without    reference    to    sur- 
roundings, 150;    propounded  by  ail 
factions,   193 ;    Sadducean   question, 
193;  Pharisaic  question,  196;  casu- 
istic,   196;  the   scribe's   momentary 
insight,  196 
Religion,  not  easy,  151  ;   implies  strife, 
152;    living   above    the  earth,    158; 
party  spirit  in,    164 ;    how    met   by 
Christ,  165. 
Renan,  12. 

Resurrection,  unexpected    by   disciples, 
259 ;    the   women   at  the   sepulchre, 
267  ;  the  earthquake,  267 ;  woman's 
love  the  pioneer,  267  ;  the  narrative 
of,    268;    Peter    and    John    racing, 
270;    their   incredulity,   272,    Mary 
Magdalene    at    the  sepulchre,   273; 
Christ's  concealment  of   his  person- 
ality, 276;  his  appearance  in   Jeru- 
salem, 282. 
Returning  Leper,  lesson  of,  97. 
Riches,  Bible  doctrine  of,  171  ;  selfishly 
held  a  bar  to  the  kingdom,  172  ;  dnn- 
gerous  to  spirituality,  173. 
Sadducees,   their   own   special    puzzle, 
192 ;    the    seven    brotliers   and    one 
wife,    193 ;    Christ's    plain    answer, 
194;  marriage  in  the  next  life,  194. 
Sanhedrim,  its  character,  189. 
Scholastic   Theologu,  illustrations  of  its 

mistakes,  164. 
Scribes  and  Kulers,  secret  of  their  rage, 

114. 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  send  deputation 

to  Christ,  51. 
Scribe's,  the,  admiration  of  Jesus,  2 ; 
his  latent  worldliness,  3  ;  great  ques- 
tion answered,  135. 
Seclusion  and  solitude  helpful  and  ne- 
cessary, 39. 


370* 


^1  .V^  L  YTI CA  L  INDEX. 


Secondary  meanings  to  Clirist's  teacli- 
ings,  153. 

Self-seeking  disciples,  167. 

Seventy,  mission  of,  95. 

Simon  thk  Cyrenman,  252. 

SiJiON  THE  Lepek,  feast  by,  211  ;  ala- 
baster box  broken,  212  ;  speculations 
as  to  tliis  custom,  212;  who  broke 
the  box,  212,  and  wli}',  213;  im- 
pressed people  differently,  213  ; 
Christ's  view,  215;  a  love  offering, 
217.' 

Sinner,  force  of  the  term  in  Galilee,  IG. 

S]>iritual  Jittuition  in  the  discernment 
of  truth,  48. 

Spiritual  Tendency  of  the  gospel,  232. 

Succor,  moral,  proper  time  for,  20. 

Sun,  the,  a  natural  symbol  of  divinity, 
111. 

Sympathy  of  Christ  with  the  people, 
104. 

Syrophenician  Woman's  prayer  and 
faith,  57. 

Swine,  rushing  headlong  into  sea,  8. 

Tabernacles,  feast  of,  'Jl. 
.  Temple,  purging  of  the,  187 ;  vision  of 
destruction,  205. 

Thomas  Didymus  willing  to  die  with 
Lazarus,  146 ;  Christ  revealed  to 
him,  277;  character  portrayed,  283; 
meaning  of  Christ's  reproach,  285. 


Traditional  Practices  criticised  by  Je- 
sus, 52. 

Transjiyunilion,  the,  73 ;  no  explana- 
tion short  of  miracle,  75 ;  primary 
design  of,  76 ;  after  influence  on 
disciples,  77  ;  why  Moses  and  Elias 
chosen,  78 ;  time  spent  upon  the 
mount,  78  ;  Elijah  and  John  Baptist, 
78;  solemnity  of  subsequent  mira- 
cle, 80. 

Trial  of  Christ  by  the  Sanliedrim,  238  ; 
a  Roman  tribunal  necessary,  238 ; 
why  the  rulers  remained  on  the 
threshold  of  Pilate's  court,  239. 

Tribute  Money,  hateful  to  the  Jews, 
192;  Christ's  definition  of  duty,  192. 

Truth  partially  revealed,  67. 

Tyre  and  Si  don,  55. 

Victory  requires  unremitting  persis- 
tence, 96. 

Virrjins,  parable  of,  lesson,  207. 

Washing  of  the  disciples'  feet,  219. 

Widow  and  two  mites,  21G. 

Woman  in  a  crowd  healed,  25. 

Young  Ruler,  motives  of  his  coming  to 
Jesus,  107  ;  rationale  of  answer,  167  ; 
his  one  great  need,  169;  unequal  to 
the  test,  170;  communism  not  meant, 
171;  the  young  man  not  necessarily 
lost,  173. 


BS2420.B414V.2 

The  life  of  Jesus  the  Christ ... 

Princeton  Theoloqic.il  Semmary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00030  1160 


